


Escape from the Bermuda triangle

by Bermuda_anon



Category: Original Work
Genre: Amazons - Freeform, Cunnilingus, F/M, Face-Sitting, Femdom, Hand Jobs, Hunters & Hunting, Oral Sex, Original Character(s), POV Original Character, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, gfd
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-16
Updated: 2016-01-22
Packaged: 2018-05-14 09:13:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 65,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5737978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bermuda_anon/pseuds/Bermuda_anon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A young officers plane gets downed on a supply run to Bermuda. Lost in the jungle he finds more than just adventure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

You board the plane. It's your first time aboard an aircraft and it's the first time you you have the opportunity to see a flying machine up close. That's not to say you have never seen an aircraft before, back in London you saw plenty overhead, courtesy of the German blitz. Those hateful small dots in the sky, raining death and destruction, they seemed so ascendent up there, so aloof, untouchable by you who where the subjects of their terror. They used to fill you with rage and feeling of impotence, those small angels of the sky, forever out of your reach.  
"Get to your seat and buckle up, kid!"  
You are jolted out of your reminiscence by what you assume is the captain of of the aircraft, an american a few years older than you. You feel both a bit irritated and humiliated being called a kid by some cocky new worlder, back in England your surname would at least grant you some courtesy from the low born. This however, is America. Here they give no heed to birth or creed. To make things worse, he has every right to call you boy. He's everything you aspired to be, handsome, tall and an attitude of complete confidence and nonchalance like a hero torn directly from the silver screen. A knight of the sky, clad in a leather flight jacket and aviators. You a, skinny, pampered boy from an upper crust home in the London countryside.  
You had tried to become an aviator but your less than perfect eyesight killed that dream right at the recruitment office. Failing that you tried to join the royal artillery, to man the Flak batteries defending London in an attempt to get some modicum of vengeance at your flying tormentors and a sky you where denied. Your father, a minor lord with some clout in the military had other ideas. Abhorred by the idea that his son would be hauling heavy loads side by side with conscripted coalers and dock workers, he had you whisked away to an officers academy as soon as he heard what you where up to. They whipped you just as hard as a cadet as they would do any raw recruit but at least it was a man of proper station doing the whipping and that was all your father cared about.  
You look out the window from your seat. Making a coughing sound, the propeller start turning. Soon the aircraft vibrates as the engines roar with power. With a jerk the plane starts to move down the runway, slow at first but picking up terrific speed faster than you thought possible. You cling to your seat as you feel the acceleration pull on you. You close your eyes and pray a quick prayer that the pilot know what he's doing.  
Apparently he did because the first thing you notice as you open your eyes is that you are far off the ground. For a moment you feel invincible, looking down at the world, everything ant sized. You make a mental note that you shall become a pilot in some capacity or die trying. The feeling fades rather quick however as the flight draws on. It's exceedingly noisy and except the captain and the copilot, you are the only passenger. There is little to do and only miles of sea below you by now. If flight is this monotone and noisy, maybe it's not so great after all you think. Nothing like a proper ship with a bar and a captains mess.  
You decide to go over your mission papers again to pass the time.  
You open your briefcase and take out the folder reading "Royal Corps of Signals" on front. Your first assignment.  
Inside is various papers pertaining your mission.  
-Boat ticket, UK-USA  
-Papers to give to liaison officers at Eglin Air Force Base, Florida.  
-Technical papers on a new, secret listening device to be installed at overseas territory Bermuda, listening for Enigma signals from German U-boats  
-Instructions where to meet up with captain Jackson who will fly you and your listening device hidden among some token supplies to Bermuda.  
-Orders to contact local Commonwealth forces, to oversee the installment and operation of said listening device until further orders are given.  
Royal Corps of Signals. Again your fathers work. He wasn't content with having you being an officer, he made sure you where as far from any war front as humanly possible. Oh well, there are worse fates in war than being stationed at a tropical island doing nothing.  
Somehow you feel that you got off lucky. You put away the papers and decide to doze off as best you can for the remainder of you journey.

You wake up sharply as your head strikes the seat in front of you. Thank god that the Americans can afford such luxuries as cushioned seats.  
The plane jerks violently. This is your first time in air and still you can deduct that this kind of movement is not the kind any aircraft in the business of being airborne should be doing. Another violent throw racks the plane and you are thrown hard against the belt holding you in your seat. A sharp bang from outside the aircraft is accompanied by a flash of light. As you look outside you see the engine billow black smoke and oil, propeller not turning. Panic starts to bubble up inside you. This is definitely not good. The plane takes a sharp nose dive and you realize that you are about to die. The door to the cockpit has been flung open and through it, beyond the wind screen you see the dark blue sea on rapid approach. Somehow, the certain prospect of your death fills you with some grim calm, reflecting over how cruel the sky can be, first to be denied you and the killed by it as soon as you get even a taste of it.  
You close your eyes and await your fate.  
A blinding flash sears trough your closed eyelids. You open your eyes and note that afterlife is terribly noisy. Most of the noise comes from a huge tear in the fuselage in front of you. Through the windows you see that a massive forest expands below you. You reflect little over how this forest appeared in the middle of the sea because you know a forest will kill you just as sure as the sea will if you crash your plane into it. You feel that despite having lived through what could be called a miracle, your situation has not improved. If the situation does not improve, does it still classify as a miracle you wonder?  
The miracle as it turns out, is the captains skill behind the stick. Somehow to your amazement he manages to regain control over the stricken aircraft, pulling the plane away from its doomed descent.  
"Feather number 1 engine, I'll put us down in that lake ahead" you hear the captain shout to his co-pilot.  
You feel a small glimmer of hope as you see a small lake ahead through the cockpit door. Is it possible to land a plane on such a small lake? Can planes land on lakes to begin with? As the captain angles in for final approach, the captain turns around in and shouts at you.  
"Hang on kid, it's going to be rough!"  
You cover your head with your arms and double over in your seat. A slight annoyance over being called a kid again is the last thing passing through your mind before your world becomes one of noise, spinning and pain.

You open your eyes. Everything hurts. Your arms, your back, your legs, everything. You groan a bit. Your general status does not improve.  
You try to move your head. Your neck hurts but it still works. You look around and try to appraise the situation. You are entangled in seating and what once was a fuselage. Everything that once made up a fine aircraft is now torn and twisted. Your head clears a bit and you start to feel brave enough to move a bit. Your entire body protests, your moves feel sluggish but you move. Nothing seems seriously broken and from what you can see, your limbs point in the right general direction. You start to untangle yourself and crawl through the twisted fuselage towards the light of the sky, shining in through the rear of the aircraft. As you crawl closer you see the sun shining through the gaping hole where the tail section has been torn away. You crawl to the edge and see that the surface of the lake is just a few inches below you. Not wanting to crawl back into the crumpled plane to look for an alternate exit, you spill yourself into the water.  
The water enter your nose and your mouth and you breach the surface coughing and wheezing. As luck would have it the water is only about two feet deep, had it been any deeper you felt that there would be a serious risk of drowning as you are still in full uniform and in no condition to swim.  
You slog your way around the aircraft and get a view of the whole scene. What was once a graceful master of the sky now looks like a mosquito smacked by a giant hand. The one wing is torn off, the other bent, the tail is missing and the nose has plowed a deep furrow in the sand bank at the shore, coming to a rest against a large tree further up the bank. It was not a gentle stop. The cockpit windows are smashed, the entire front of the plane is crumpled and deformed. The area around the small lake is surrounded by dense forests, temperate from the looks of it. The trees are well over one hundred feet tall and many more than trice as broad as you are over the shoulders. Thick undergrowth, what looks like bamboo and some kind of short palm trees are at the ground level, blocking you from seeing very far. You slog your way to the sand bank and collapse from exhaustion. Every fiber of your being hurts. Your uniform is all but torn to shreds, you are bleeding from several cuts and you feel like you have been trampled by a horse. Then you remember the captain. Your pain almost forgotten, you limp your way over to the smashed cockpit. Peering through the broken window, you see the captain and co-pilot. The co-pilot is decidedly dead, impaled on a sharp piece of metal. It's a ghastly sight and you look away your guts turning.  
You force yourself to look at the captain. He's battered and bleeding, pinned to his seat by the instrument panel but alive. Seeing no way to free him, you remove your boot and walk down to the lake. You fill your boot with water, tear a piece from your uniform shirt and make your way back to the captain.  
You reach inside the cockpit and start to clean the blood from his forehead, splash some water at his face and try to make him drink some directly from the boot. Under any normal circumstances, you would be disgusted by the very idea of someone drinking from a boot but at this moment you don't care and don't think the captain would either. Slowly the captain open his eyes. Calmly he looks at you, scans over to his unfortunate co-pilot and finally looks down at himself, mangled under the instrument panel. He looks back at you and you see a glimmer of the nonchalance and confidence he had when you boarded the plane.  
"All up to you kid." he wheezes.  
You look and feel dumbfounded.  
"I'm no kid." is all you manage to respond.  
The captain manages to chuckle with a coughing sound. Painstakingly he reaches into his jacket and gives you his wallet.  
"Bring this to miss Anderson in Wyoming, will ya?"  
You manage a nod.  
He gives you a bloody smile and closes his eyes.  
Despite your best efforts with bringing water and prying away the instrument panel, he dies later in the evening.  
Seeing your only companion in this wilderness die fills you with such despair that you you just slumps against the side of the wreck and cries yourself to sleep in pure exhaustion.  
You wake the following morning to the sound of crows. As soon as you realize what's going on, you jump up with a start and start shooing away the foul birds.  
The brave captain saved your life and you'd rather have a vulture eat your liver than seeing the man consumed by carrion fowl.  
Having slept a while has lessened the ache in both body and mind and you remember a shred of the stiff upper lip mentality whipped into you at the academy. With the captain dead, you are the highest ranking officer on the scene and it is your duty to return to High Command with a report of casualties. With grim determination you retrieve dog tags from the pilots, the blood not fazing you any more. You open the wallet and stuff the dog tags inside. You see a photo of woman inside and a folded telegram, yet to be delivered.  
The girl on photo and the name on the telegram is the captains fiancee you hedge.  
Given the situation of you and your cargo, the listening post won't be happening in the foreseeable future. Reporting back and delivering the captains telegram is you new task at hand and are determined to do so whatever it takes, come hell or high water. You settle down and take stock of the situation.  
You realize that your wounds need to be taken care of, you need food and clean water. Remembering the supplies that the aircraft brought along with the listening device, you spring into as much action your body allows and start the arduous task of salvaging as much supplies you can from the wreck.  
After several grueling hours, you have extracted as much as possible from the wreck. Much of your loot is broken, but you do find enough useful things to give you hope that you'll be able to march to a river or the sea.  
You have a pup tent, some mosquito netting, your uniform greatcoat, a fresh BDU Jacket a mess kit, a canteen, lighter and fire steel, a couple of american D-rations, a fishing hook and some like, a bayonet, a spool of hemp wire, what remains you could gather from a medics bag and a canvas backpack.  
You also found a can of ammunition and a smashed crate of SMLE rifles. Most where bent or cracked but you managed to pick together one rifle that could probably pass the armorers inspection. You pack your new belongings in the backpack, don the jacket and grab a bandolier and your rifle and make ready to set out to to find civilization. Your last act before leaving the wreck is to scoop up as much oil and gasoline you can from an engine and spread in and around the wreck. When you put your lighter to the wreck, it soon flares up in a blaze.  
You shield your face from the heat and look at your handiwork. This is the funeral pyre for the pilots and your duty to destroy the classified documents and equipment you carried. You utter a silent prayer you remember from Sunday church, hoping it will guide the souls of the pilots on their way to heaven.  
Watching the fire for a while, you follow the waterline, hoping to find a small creek to follow.  
"When in a survival situation, find water and walk down stream" they taught during survival training.  
"Civilization always bloom along the waterway" they said.  
It was easier said than done it turns out.  
At the far end of the lake you find that just a hundred yards up a small rivulet you find that the source of the lake is a tall waterfall running of a cliff at least fifty feet high. Any civilization or settlement following this waterway will have to wait until you find some way up that cliff.  
Navigating by the sun, you decide to follow the cliff westward. At first you feel almost upbeat. You are just like Dr. Livingstone exploring far away lands or you might be the next Robinson Crusoe.  
You feel that no jungle in the world can match the mettle of a British officer. You have the training and the spirit.  
Unfortunately, as time goes on and your feet feel sore, questions and doubt start to creep up on you. How did you crash in a jungle this size between Florida and Bermuda? You saw Bahamas pass underneath you on your way out. What was those flashes outside the aircraft? What brought you out of the sky to begin with? What kind of forest is this? Are there lions in this kind of forest? Do I even have the slightest idea on what I'm doing? Fear starts to creep up your spine. What happens when it get dark? Are there cannibals around? Every noise start to sound like a tiger creeping up on you. What little sunlight that gets through the canopy leave dark areas in the undergrowth where you imagine hungry eyes looking at you. You stick to the rock face like a moss, edging along trying to keep your back free and scan every direction. To your horror you notice that the sun is setting rapidly. Everything is getting dark quickly.  
Your only source of light is your lighter which when lit only serves to make the forest even darker outside the small circle of light it provides. You huddle up against the rock face, cover yourself with the great coat, hug your rifle, fix the bayonet and gnaw on a D-bar. In the darkness it's very cold but the familiar taste of bitter chocolate and the reassurance a rifle gives make things a little easier to bear. Still, You don't sleep may hours that night.

The following morning your breakfast consists of what remains of the D-ration and a few swigs from the canteen. You are still hungry but food is short. You pack up your meager belongings and start to march towards the unknown again. Your head is filled with thoughts of baked beans, bacon, toast with egg and tea. God, you could kill for a cup of tea right about now. You wander along following the seemingly endless cliff face.  
That's when you meet her.  
As you walk around a a bend in the cliff face you enter a small clearing and find yourself standing merely ten yards away from a woman, face to face.  
The fact that it is a woman is evidently clear by the wide swaying hips, a loincloth failing barely hiding long well shaped thighs, leather wrappings struggling to keep a pair of large breasts at bay and wild long silvery hair reaching down to her midriff. Her skin is dark bronze, but her eyes are deep emerald almost shimmering despite the darkness of the forest. The beauty of her face makes you stop in your tracks and do a double take. Then you notice that her most striking feature is not her silver hair, her dark skin or proportions that not even a ancient Greek sculptor could do justice. It's her size. What you thought was a small piglet slung over her shoulder like a messenger bag is a big boar, tusks and all. A quick estimate gives you that she stands well over seven feet tall, closer to eight. Adding to that, she's not lanky but almost to the broad side with her hips and muscular shoulders. Oh, the muscles. In addition to her size she has perfectly chiseled abs, muscle tone that would make Michelangelo's David statue hit the gym. Biceps that rival the strong man at a circus but still in some peculiar way, feminine.  
The shock of seeing her halts you almost in mid step. You simply cannot advert your gaze from this titan of a woman despite that her scant clothing should embarrass one of your upbringing. You stand there, your eyes locked to hers. A slight wind stirs her long hair as she stands there, her full lips slightly apart, eyes wide. You blink. You realize, she must be every bit as surprised as you. A spear that she was carrying falls from her hand like she simply forgot to hold onto it. You too would probably have dropped your weapon if it weren't for the sling. Score one for the civilized world.  
She blinks.  
Then you both start to move simultaneously. She lifts the boar off her shoulder and throws it aside like it was made of cotton. She looks around after her spear for a second not finding it immediately abandons it and approaches you in large strides, her eyes filled with determination.  
You, having thrown your backpack clear, unsling you rifle and level it at her bayonet fixed. Your discipline as an officer of the Commonwealth takes over, days bayonet drilling guides your movements. You stand 5"10' holding the line. You feel confident.  
"Halt in the name of the King" you bark.  
She does not halt.  
Before you can figure what to do next, she's upon you towering above you just as majestic and resolute as the massive trees that surround you.  
Lightning fast, her hand darts out and grabs the barrel of your rifle, forcing it to the side. You training takes over. You swipe left trying to land a blow with the butt of the rifle. As it turns out, your training and almost six feet in height don't cut it against her strength and almost 8 foot. She expertly grabs the stock of the rifle in her other hand.  
There you stand for a fraction of a moment, holding the rifle between you. You try to yank the rifle free. Any training you had is rendered useless as no one taught you how to free a rifle stuck in a large vise, for all your trying you could just as well have tried to yank the Excalibur from its stone.  
Then she begin to lift the rifle above your head and starts to push but you refuse to let go. You feel like a curtain on the curtain rod, your feet barely scraping the ground as she lifts the rifle higher. You feel your back slam against the rock face you where following, almost winding you. Your face is pressed up against her leather bound breasts but with adrenalin pumping through your veins you hardly even notice. Having you pinned between her breasts and the rocks, she tries to pull the rifle free. Your grip is iron, resulting in a shameful but oh so pleasurable feeling as you slide up over her breasts, ending up face to face with her, barely an inch apart.  
Again you lock eyes. Her face is so close that all you see is her green eyes boring into you and despite the adrenaline you feel like a blush is creeping up your face. Barely a second pass but under the adrenalin it feels like a minute and it gives you time to act. You nestle a finger into the trigger guard. You pull the trigger.  
Little can prepare anyone who has not dealt with guns on how loud they are. You where prepared. She was not. With your ears ringing you fall to the ground, still holding the rifle. You adversary takes a few stumbling steps backwards holding her ears, eyes shut tight in pain. In her stunned state, she stumbles over a root and falls over backwards landing on her behind in a sitting position. You seize the opportunity and leap to your feet. You have to strike when she's on the ground, at your level. In one leap you spring at her and strikes a massive blow to the side of her head with the stock. Without uttering a sound she keels over on her side. She hits the ground with a thud. A brief moment passes and as your hearing returns, all you hear is distant birds singing and wind rustling leaves.  
You allow yourself to sit down, your whole body shaking like a leaf with adrenalin. You crawl over to your backpack and take a few gulps from the canteen. You finally start to calm down. Then the fear sets in and you start to shake again.  
Did you kill her? You struck a girl down! If that was a woman, what will the men look like? What will they do to you when they find that you struck one of their women? Have you started a new war? You start to panic as thoughts race your mind. You have to make things right. You sling your rifle over your shoulder and scramble over to your fallen foe. As you carefully approach her, you see that she's bleeding from a cut where you struck her, staining her silvery white hair red.  
Prodding her with your boot yields no reaction whatsoever. Her breath fogs the bayonet when you hold it under her nose revealing that she's alive, for now at least. You attempt to prop her up against a tree but you soon find that she is too heavy for you to even budge from her position. Abandoning your attempts to move her you fetch your backpack, upend it beside her and tend to her wound with what medical supplies you have. It's not a large cut but it was a heavy blow. You disinfect, clean, bandage and cover her with your greatcoat, all in accordance to the Geneva convention. As expected of a British officer. After some quick thinking you opt for erecting your pup tent directly above her, negating any need to move her form her exposed position. It's not Buckingham palace but it'll keep any rain or wind at bay.  
Feeling content with your work you start to relax a little. Sitting by the opening of the tent you hear your prisoners soft breath. You look over wondering what could have created such a large woman. The pup tent, made to house even a large corn fed American, leaves her head outside due to her size. Your greatcoat barely covers her torso, leaving her thighs exposed. Her thighs.  
Just seeing those thighs, round but a faint muscle tone hinting at raw power causes a heat to build inside you. You reach over to lift the coat to see if yo-NO! You are a gentleman of high breed! You will do no such thing! This woman is in you care and she will be afforded utmost decency and respect.  
To distract yourself from your impure mind you set out to make a camp around the shelter. You gather firewood, locate the nearest source of water, doing your best to skin and dress the discarded boar, cook a soup from the meat and some rations and care for the stricken lady as proper and correct as expected of a gentleman. Towards the evening she still hasn't woken up. You take her head in your lap and gently try to feed her some soup. Even if most of it end up on the ground you think she got to keep some.  
By sunset you make a fire, cook some meat and eat dinner in silence. With your makeshift tent, a fireplace and some strips of meat hanging to dry covered in a mosquito netting, you start to feel a modicum of pride over your camp and your achievements. You have survived a plane crash and the following night, you have fought valiantly and taken a prisoner and you have rescued a maiden. Yes, the rescued maiden is giant, dwarfing even the largest of men, the wound she is suffering from was inflicted by you and she's a savage, but still. She is a maiden and more than fair.  
As night draws close you crawl in beside your charge, outside the greatcoat mind you, and quickly fall asleep from the days exertion.  
The following day follows the same pattern as the first, minus the brawl with an amazon. You eat some charred meat and D-ration for breakfast, gather firewood, try to coax some food into the still unconscious maiden. You head to a waterfall forming a large plunge pool you passed on your journey and actually manages to catch a fish. While sitting with your makeshift fishing rod your thoughts start to run. You cannot help but touch yourself remembering your face buried in those voluptuous breasts, those lips so close to yours, that butt, large and round but packed with power, those... In the end your left with a handful of goo and shame. You quickly wash away your sin hoping that if you release it here it won't fill you with indecent thoughts there. You return to your camp with the days catch.  
You return to see everything as you left it, which means your patient has yet to wake up. You start to worry, how long can someone stay unconscious? Did you inflict serious injuries upon her? You decide to not worry yet and focus on preparing fish and the meal for the night. You idly wonder what will happen if she wakes up? Will she be cross with you? You decide to hide the rifle, just in case she gets any stupid ideas. You have yet to see even tracks of any larger animals, so you figure there is no immediate need for it right now in any case.  
The following day follows the same pattern with cooking, firewood, fishing and venting impure thoughts far away where they will do no harm.  
Upon returning things have changed. Your patient is up and standing in all her glory. She's standing in the middle of your little camp, idly probing the wound at her temple. She has been awake long enough to recover her spear you note.  
You approach carefully. When she see you, she first gives you a blank stare, then her eyes go dark. She does indeed seem cross with you.

The amazon glares at you as you cautiously make your way into the camp. It's an decidedly unfriendly look she gives you. You get the feeling that the rifle would be nice to have about now. At the same time, you know that if you had the gun, any violence would most certainly end with at least one of you dying. On the other hand you also know that any violent confrontation as it stands now would lead to a violent death on your part alone. You slowly walk forward, holding the fish you caught as dagger or maybe a peace offering. You are not sure which.  
Armed with your fish, you stop ten yards in front of her. Your father, a veteran from the Boer wars and stationed in Africa during his youth always lectured you on Boers and other types of savages.  
"The common born and the savage will by instinct follow the order of their betters" your father always said.  
You look up into her eyes trying to return her fierce stare.  
"Surrender your spear, savage woman" you order.  
You see muscles under her skin shift as she tense up.  
"I order yo-" is as far you get with your second order before her spear lashes out towards you. You barely manage to yank your head aside, the flint tip scoring a line of fire across your left cheek. You don't even have the time to scream before she follows through the stab and you glimpse the back of her hand from the right. The next thing you know, you are flying. Your head is spinning, you have lost all sense of direction, of what is sky and what is ground. For a brief moment you feel like you are floating.  
Then the ground meets you, driving all wind from your lungs. The world stops spinning and pain explodes across your face and body. Your left cheek is on fire, your right cheek feels numb, your lungs burn. You lay on your back gasping for breath when a huge foot crashes down on your chest, driving what air you had left from you. A spear is pointed at your throat. Your eyes follow the leg upwards, past a muscular thigh, up her loincloth. Somewhere nestled with the cascade of other pains and discomfort you think you feel a sting of shame for looking at a ladies underwear. As you expect to die violently within a moment, you indulge yourself that glance. You hope Saint Peter, a fellow man, will understand when you meet him at the pearly gates.  
Your immediate demise is not as immediate as you first thought however. The spear hangs above you like the sword of Damocles but it refuses to fall. You look up at the face far above you. Green eyes glimmer back. Is it contempt or pity you see in her eyes? Curiosity? Whatever it is, it has stayed her hand. She looks away from your bruised face and glances over you small camp, the fire place, the mess kit, the drying meat, the pup tent. She looks back at you. She closes her eyes, gives a sigh and removes her foot from your chest. You start to breathe again.  
She tosses her spear beside the shelter and casually bends down and pick you up by your jacket effortlessly like you where a small puppy. She drags you over to the fireplace where she settles down on her knees and place your head in her lap. Despite the hard muscle underneath, her bronze skin is soft and smooth under your cheek. You try to appear as lifeless as possible, afraid that any resistance will invoke her wrath again. You see her reach for a pot from the mess kit filled with water which she slowly pours on the wound on your face. Your face and jacket become soaked with water and blood. You remain motionless. You catch a glimpse of a small pouch she procures from the rope holding her loincloth in place. She dips her finger in what looks like some kind of black resin. She fixes your head in a vise like grip with one hand and smears the resin along your wound.  
It burns like if Lucifer himself was taking a piss in your cheek, like a thousand fire ants tearing at your flesh. You try to remain still and quiet and you fail. You trash and scream, desperately trying to claw at the hellfire in your cheek. Her one hand remains in control over your head while her other hand catches your wrists and pin them to your body. Your are like a small child to her strength so you resort to screaming. You curse at and kick at this witch doctor working her black arts at you as high as your bruised ribs allow you. She remains calm, holding you still. Soon the pain subsides and you go limp. The amazon releases your arms and scrapes away the resin with a small flint blade. You cautiously probe the wound and to your amazement the blood has clotted completely and the wound itself seems to be held together by the residue of the resin. You drag yourself off her lap and sit up.  
You wipe away some tears and look at the massive woman in front of you. She, apparently feeling done with you for the moment ignores you. She appears greatly fascinated by the metal pots and utensils of your mess kit and also managed to help her self to the strips of dry meat you hung up a few days ago. She apparently thinks of you as no threat as she makes no move to stop you as you shuffle your way over to a small pile of leaves. The pile with your rifle hidden in.  
You calmly retrieve you rifle and walk over to the fire place opposite of her. She looks up from her studies of the pots and for a moment her face is one of question but then recognition dawns upon her like she remembered the brawl and the thunder your rifle could invoke. Her eyes darken but she makes no move to get up.  
You stand still and take your time deciding what to do now that the balance of power has shifted in your direction.  
Dr. Livingstone had relied on soft words to garner help from savages during their travels while others like H.M Stanley had relied on the whip to keep his subordinates in line.  
To keep the savage in front of you in line by the whip would probably be like whipping a tiger into submission.  
The look she gives you is definitely tiger like. Feeling that she would probably kill you in your sleep should you try to force her into submission, you decide that you are about even with her as far as scars go.  
The Livingstone route it is.  
You carefully sit down opposite of her across the fireplace, deliberately placing the rifle by your side a bit away from you. You hope this gesture will show her that you mean no harm but that you also won't suffer any more abuse from her. She relaxes slightly and resumes eating dried the meat but she keeps her gaze fixed on you, eyes suspicious. You try to tense down a bit to but your wet jacket and bruised ribs make it hard. You unbutton the jacket and lay it out to dry examining your now bare chest for scrapes and bruises. Despite the battering you have taken over the last few days, you seem to have held up well.  
Feeling that something is off you look up at the amazon. She has frozen all movements, eyes wide staring at your naked chest. Before you can make any move she leaps like a giant cat over the fireplace onto you. How someone that big can move so fast and agile is beyond you. Again you find yourself pinned to the ground, this time her hand around your neck. Her other hand is busy running over your chest, feeling your ribs, your pecs, your shoulders again and again. Her hands are surprisingly soft even with their size, large as that of any man. Despite your best efforts you never managed to get any muscle tone while at the academy, your body is more of a boy than a man. Despite that, she seems to be almost fixed in trance looking at it. You try to struggle and try to pry her fingers open but you soon feel that it's no use under her immense strength and weight.  
You cease struggling as the hand on throat is gentle but firm, not blocking your breathing but keeping you on your back for this impromptu medical exam.  
She prods and knead your pecs like a doctor inspecting for tumors and while you find the treatment very undignified you feel that you can afford to indulge her curiosity a bit. You are probably the firs white man she's seen and who knows what traditions and rituals these savages have? You'll instruct her how to behave civilized in due time.  
She bends over and sniffs your chest like one would sniff a steak for freshness.  
Her eyes go wider and she looks at your face.  
Suddenly her free hand darts in under your pants, under your underwear cupping your genitals. You go red with shock and embarrassment flailing wildly to get her off you. Her fingers are exploring every inch of your most private place, darting back and forth. Your hand finds your rifle and you pull it up between her and you. The sight of the gun breaks her fixation molesting you and she scrambles back a few yards. Half naked, hugging your rifle, face red with shame and embarrassment you tighten your belt as many holes you possibly can.  
You feel the eyes of the amazon on you. You look up and meet her gaze. Despite you having the rifle, you see no hate or suspicion in it. What you read in her face is hunger, lust and greed. You feel like a hare under the gaze of a fox. She's opening and closing the molesting hand like she's remembering the feeling of it exploring your scrotum.  
"This rabbit's got a gun, you savage" you mumble at her, face still red.  
"ɣʏʂɴɳɰð ͜ŋɢɱ t͡ʃøəɲ?"she responds. Your head jerks up. It's the first time you hear her speak. It's a surprisingly mild voice in contrast to her large stature. What she said you have no idea but you think it was a question.  
"What?" you blurt out.  
"ʒɤ͡ɭʜ͜ʊ̈ʀʛ" she replies, pointing to the sky.  
You look up to see the sky starting to turn pink. Sunset. Does ʒɤ͡ɭʜ͜ʊ̈ʀʛ imply that the sun is setting? You're fluent in German, french and Latin and can read five more languages. Language has always been one of your strong suites but this one has you stumped. You have no idea even what branch this language belongs to. You decide that linguistic studies will have to wait because if "ʒɤ͡ɭʜ͜ʊ̈ʀʛ" means sunset, the amazon is right. Sun is setting quickly and darkness will soon be upon you. You slowly start to pick through the camp, always keeping an eye on the amazon, rifle always close. The speed of which she jumped you makes you wary. You gather your mess kit, your few remaining rations and whatever else that seems to have been kicked over in your earlier struggle. you hang your jacket over a branch to dry as it's still soaked. The amazon regards you as someone who has her eyes on a large nugget of gold at the bottom of a stream. As you gather your possessions, she slowly approaches you, hands raised, palms toward you, like she's approaching an easily frightened animal. Maybe she also felt that you two is building up a rabbit-fox relationship? You watch her warily as she approach you, your body bruised from your previous contacts with her.  
She points to your rifle and then to her spear on the ground, then crossing her arms in front of her chest. No weapons? Peace? Has she forgotten that she jumped you as soon as you let your guard down? Again she points to the spear and the gun and crosses her arms. You look at her face in the dying sunlight and you suddenly feel that she actually no longer have any ill intentions towards you.  
You are not sure what her intentions towards you are at the moment but she didn't kill you before and you don't think she intend to do so now. You slowly put the rifle next to the spear.  
The amazon smiles at you. It's a beautiful smile. Yet, you see a hunger in her face and you suddenly feel the impure thoughts stir within you. You have to remind yourself that you are a gentleman and you shall not desire any kind of lewd acts with any woman until you married proper under god! You are struck by the weirdness of the whole situation, the strange forest, this titan woman leading your thoughts to sin. Making sure you don't make any too quick moves you retreat into the tent and drag the great coat over you and curl into a ball. The entirety of your situation is too much for you to bear. While you know you can't hide from it, pretending to do so helps somewhat. You wonder what the amazon will do. Will she stay here or go on her way? Will she prepare another sleeping spot for herself? Is she waiting for you to be a gentleman and offer up the only tent? Surely no woman, no matter how savage would enter a tent with an unmarried man? What you did before was different since she was wounded and needed care. Besides you are a man, it's different what you do. Does she- Your frantic thoughts are interrupted as the amazon puts an end to your wonders. You hear her move and look up from under the great coat. You only see her outline in the tent opening opening as she crawls on her hands and knees into the small space with you. Despite being visible as a shadow against the last light outside, there is no doubt whatsoever. She intends to sleep with you. Naked. You go rigid as you feel her creep in under the great coat beside you.  
You silently swear to yourself that you'll never again let go of the gun as long as this lewd amazon is around.  
The small tent offer no escape as you feel her warm skin press against you naked back as she forms the big spoon to your small. You feel her large breasts press into you, warm and soft. You try to inch yourself away, to create an air gap between your bodies but her strong arms wrap you in a bear hug and draws you back into her breasts. Her body heat is immense and for the first time since you crashed in the jungle you are not cold at night.  
To your horror, your little officer stands to attention at the feeling, despite and because how scandalous the situation is. Knowing that any kind of escape is impossible you place your hands between your legs to hide your erection and also safeguard against any further attacks and consign yourself to being forcibly snuggled.  
The amazon shifts position slightly and the feeling of her breasts shifting against your back sends sparks of electricity shooting trough your body. Her one hand strokes your chest while her other hand cradles your head in under her face and she nuzzles your hair like you're a big teddy bear. A finger traces over your chest, down around your bellybutton, back tracing your ribs, up circling a nipple. Wherever she touches your skin tingles and burn.  
Her hot breath stirs your hair making your cheeks burn hot like a stove.  
Her hand traces downward again, across your belly and explores the shapes of your hips and follows the line of your belt. As you feel it snake itself towards your pubic area you turn your muscles to steel in apprehension, fearing that she again might gain entry to your pants.  
Maybe she feels your apprehension, maybe it's the tight belt blocking her but she returns to stroking your chest and you relax a little.  
The amazon whispers something in a soft voice to you, what exactly you have no idea but you are fairly certain that they would call it "sweet nothings" or some such in a romance novel. Her hand goes for another attempt at your pants but you knot up in a ball with all your might and you freeze all your movement.  
Her hand retreats again and it seems like she surrenders the idea of getting into your pants for the night. Instead she just wraps her arms around your chest and draws a deep sigh. For a long moment both you just lie there locked to each other. You suddenly feel that the situation is tremendously awkward, like a young pair hastily married away by their parents not knowing what to do on their wedding night. You the nervous bride and she the fumbling bridegroom.  
In a last ditch attempt do salvage some dignity you pretend to fall asleep. The amazon, possibly feeling the same, makes no attempt to call your bluff and relaxes slightly. Lying there in her warm embrace your mind. What was she trying to achieve by coming into your bed, all touchy feely? Why do you find these lewd out-of-wedlock acts so exciting? You where in no way unfamiliar with what men and women did in the dark, courtesy of the other cadets at the academy and you frequently participated in their dirty discussions but in your fantasies it was a future wife who was subject to your depravities. Not to mention that you always fantasized about a smaller blushing girl, fidgeting and nervous, not a bronzen colossus having you nervous and fidgeting. You don't even know her name. What IS her name? is the last thing you remember before real sleep finds you.

You wake up late the next morning, alone. As you crawl out the tent you wonder if the awkward night made the amazon steal away in shame while it was still dark. You are surprised at how your heart clenches at the thought. You don your now dry uniform jacket and ponder this small hook in your heart. Surely you can't develop feelings for a savage? Not after how she nearly battered you to death just a day ago? Maybe your feelings stem from a protective instinct from when she was unconscious in your care?  
You hear a slight rustling and you turn to see a the titan woman coming trough the forest carrying something. You feel more relieved to see her than you have any right to do.  
She carries what appears to be a small deer in one hand and her spear in the other. Had she woken early to hunt? She drops the spear next to the shelter and walks over to the fireplace, looking around at the various utensils left there. At first you are puzzled at what she's up to but then realize what she's doing. You met her returning from a hunting trip. Her loincloth doesn't hold any blades of any kind except the small one she used when administering the resin on your wound. She obviously did not intend to dress the animal in the forest. Now she's looking for whatever tool you used to deal with the boar she had felled.  
You bring out the bayonet from the backpack and walk over to her. You hold out the bayonet hilt first. She drops the deer and accepts the bayonet cautiously. Her eyes go wide when she draws it from the scabbard.  
"ɠɨœɹd͡ʒ ɸɐ ðɻ͜ɐɕ͡ʃçɵt͡ʃ!" she proclaims, eyes wide.  
Again you have no idea what she said but you can tell she's impressed.  
After studying the blade for a moment she squats down and goes to work on the deer. You sit down opposite her and observe her work.  
She is exceptionally good with a blade. Remembering your night you redden slightly but it also brings to mind the mystery of her name.  
Deciding that after what has happened between you, for the sake of decency you need to know each others names. You gather courage and look up at her.  
"Excuse me"  
She stops her work and looks at you. Your courage waivers somewhat but you press on.  
"May I have the pleasure of your name, miss?" you say in your politest voice and immediately feel rock stupid for even trying to speak English to her.  
She just stares at you.  
You point to yourself.  
"Emanuel" you say, making sure to pronounce every syllable. Then you point at her and intensely hoping she'll understand.  
She quietly mouths your name to herself for a moment then she points to herself.  
"ɚ̃͡ɲɣ͜ɑ" she says.  
Anya. That's the closest facsimile in english you figure.  
Then she points to you.  
"Eme- Ame- Amem-" She shakes her head. She has obviously a hard time pronouncing your name.  
"ɬʊ͜͡ɱ" she says pointing to you. Lum? Did she call you Lum? Did she misunderstand the exercise?  
"ɚ̃͡ɲɣ͜ɑ - ɬʊ͜͡ɱ. ɚ̃͡ɲɣ͜ɑ - ɬʊ͜͡ɱ." She says pointing at herself and you in turn.  
You open your mouth to correct her but she raises a finger to silence you.  
"ɬʊ͜͡ɱ" she says pointing at you, giving you a look that begets no questions, you are now Lum.  
Stumped by the exchange you sit silent for a moment. Well, at least you got her name. You'll have to bone out this Lum business later.  
You pick up a rock and point to it.  
"Rock" you say. She looks at the rock.  
"ʃ͡θ͜ɚɨ" is the reply. She then points to a tree.  
"ʂɮɑ͜ɱ" she says.  
"Tree" you reply.  
You and Anya spend the rest of the morning doing various tasks around the camp playing your word game. You quickly learn basic words in her language and is impressed to see that Anya is all but keeping pace with you. Soon you are both engrossed in correcting each others pronunciations and laughing at particularly egregious mispronunciations. You play charades and the fact that you, an officer under the crown plays charades with a scantily clad titan somehow feels both normal and justified.  
All hostile feelings from the previous day are forgotten despite that both of you bear clear marks of your first diplomatic incidents.  
Quicker than you imagined possible, you and Anya communicates in a very basic fashion using gestures and an amalgam between your two languages. It's mostly just nouns and some verbs injected here and there but you can share information almost passably.

Whatever community Anya belongs to is clearly familiar on some level with metals but judging from the interest with which Anya interrogate you about your bayonet and components of the mess kit, they most likely are very primitive with their metal work.  
An oddity you note is that she refers to the various metal objects you possess as made of skin or bone depending on the thickness of the object. The bayonet is a bone and the metal pot is skin for instance. What animal she thinks they are made from you quite don't understand but you think it's a bird of some sort. You don't bother to correct her about the true nature of metal as you have no way of describing foundries, mining and metalworking as of yet.  
Could they believe that the native metals are remnants of some long dead beast perhaps?  
You file that query to the long list of mysteries you hope Anya can shed light upon when you learn to communicate on a passable level.  
Afternoon comes around and you find yourself sitting by the fireplace doing the best to impress Anya with the lighter and fire making skills. While she seem impressed with the lighter, you get the feeling that she's more impressed with you having a lighter than the lighter itself.  
Could she have seen a lighter before? Have the tribe she belongs to been contacted by civilization before?  
That would certainly expedite your efforts to return to the civilized world. At the same time you find it hard to believe that a tribe of literal giants could have been discovered and the story not spread like wildfire.  
As you ponder this the sound a tiger with toothache would make emanates from Anyas stomach. Hearing that sound makes you hungry as well, contagious like a yawn. The dried meat you put up has all fallen victim to Anyas voracious appetite during the morning, leaving you with little food except for the skinned deer hanging from a branch. You feel you cant blame her for eating it all as you had a hard time feeding her properly during her days of convalescence. Remembering that you still have a pair of D-rations left you procure them and offers one to her. She sniffs it cautiously and takes a careful bite. She chews slowly and makes a frowning face at the bitter taste of dark chocolate. Still she gulps it down and finishes the rest in short order.  
You, half way through gnawing at your bar comes under her intense predatory stare as the chocolate did little to still her hunger. For a moment you almost wonder if it's you or the chocolate that will fall prey to her voracity.  
Her eyes soon shift to the deer and using the bayonet she cuts some thin bamboo sticks. Stripping thin strips from the bamboo she ties two A shaped frames and plants them firmly opposite each others by the fire. She the spears the deer carcass on a longer stick and places the spit over the fire to roast.  
Soon the air is filled with the fragrance of cooking meat. You and Anya sit in silence, observing the roasting deer the silence only broken by the growling in both of your bellies. After a while, Anya prods the meat with a sharpened bamboo stick and nods approvingly.  
Giving you a smile full of pride she gestures you to help yourself to a meal. Far too hungry to insist on ladies first, you carve yourself a generous portion into the pan of the mess kit.  
Seeing your portion Anya gives a little scoff and tears herself the entire leg roast by hand. She then proceeds to dig into the leg roast in a most unladylike fashion, holding onto the bones with both hand and tearing chunks of meat with her teeth with great appetite.  
Normally you'd remark to yourself about the nature of the savage but you find yourself transfixed as you notice that the large amounts of grease and meat juices dripping from the meat forms a small river down her chin down her neck and slowly trickles down her cleavage.  
Soon her breasts are shining in the fire, speckled with grease from the meat. The sensual savagery before you transfix you to the degree that you are only remember to eat your own meal when Anya reaches and tears herself the second leg.  
Feeling ashamed at staring so unabashedly at her cleavage you dig into the dripping meat before you. The taste is raw and unseasoned but you are too hungry to care.  
Towards the afternoon by the time you have finished eating, Anya has consumed almost half the deer herself. You, full to the point of nausea marvel at how anyone not a lion can eat that much meat in one sitting. Still not finished, Anya grabs a femur and snaps it over her knee. You remember from survival training that bone marrow is some of the most nutritious substance in an animal. Despite you feeling full like a tick you want to stay true to your training so you grab the second femur. You feel yourself go blue and every old bruise on your body ache as you in vain try to snap the bone. Anya laughs and takes the bone from you.  
In what you are sure is a demonstration in power you see her muscles bulge in her arms and shoulders as she snaps the bone without even placing it over her knee. She smirks and hand back the now broken bone.  
You meekly accept. Sucking at the marrow, you feel irritation build within you. You are the Man in this situation, yet this savage, big as she might be, treats you like a child. The same irritation you felt with the American captain bubbles inside your chest. You try to think of a way to one up her but you can't see how you could possibly defeat someone of that strength in any capacity. Not without having a common language at least.  
Anya gets to her feet and stretch luxuriously like a big cat. You still sitting, your head almost at knee level with her see her bound breasts profile against the sky. Some of the juices from the meal made its way between her breasts down to her abs and is congealing between them. A familiar heat builds within you. The filthiness and the lewdness of it all somehow turns you on in a way you didn't know was possible. Anya looks down at her stained chest and makes a face like she first now notice the juice drippings. She slowly runs her index finger over the curve of a bound breast, leaving a slight trail in the greasy fluid. She then proceeds to lick her finger clean in an extravagant manner, her lips and tongue playing over her finger in a way that makes a beast inside you roar. She knows exactly what she's doing to you, you are sure of.  
"Anya dirty" she proclaims in a soft voice.  
"Anya clean in water" she continues, gesturing in the direction of the waterfall.  
Oh no, she will not tempt you into sin that easy. You are still a god fearing man and a gentleman. The irritation that's been building within you makes you want to show it's you who are in control.  
You gesture towards the remaining meat.  
"Emanuel dry meat" you say trying to keep any lust or irritation out of your voice.  
"You Lum" she corrects you and with that she turns around and heads off, hips and butt swaying.  
The irritation and lust inside you burns hotter in equal measure. You really really want to get back at her somehow, preferably in a sexual manner. Still, you suppress as much of your emotions as possible by constantly reminding yourself of your station in society and your role as a representative being an official of the crown.  
You busy yourself by cutting the remaining meat in thin strips and putting it to dry on a bamboo scaffolding by the fire.  
Your work soon done and little else to do you wonder where Anya got to. She's been gone the entire time you prepared the meat. How long can it take to wash up after a meal? The sun is almost setting.  
The image of Anya washing herself, naked, stokes fires inside you again. You try to calm yourself but it's no use. The mental image of Anya covering herself, naked and embarrassed in the face of your stern admonishment over misnaming you, staying away too long and leaving you to deal with the leftovers fuels you as you start to make your way towards the waterfall. There is a dark edge to your fantasies. The fact that she is somehow smaller and weaker than you in your mind makes you forget the events of yesterday.

As you approach the waterfall, you crouch and move as quietly as possible. You want to catch her off guard.  
Creeping along under some low ferns you get in sight of the basin but you don't see Anya. Did she head home and you missed her on your way here?  
Then you hear a splashing off to your right and see Anya enter the water. The sight of her as she wades away from your hiding spot towards the waterfall empties your mind of all else but her. Her naked butt in the light of the setting sun fills your world. You could drop a penny on that butt and catch it on the bounce. From your prone position under the fern you imagine you see a glimpse of a puffy vulva obscured by those large round cheeks.  
You instantly become rock hard. All you ever want in this world is to bury your face in that swaying butt and stay there until the end of times. Then she reaches the waterfall and turns around in your direction as the water hits her from above.  
Her wet hair drapes across her shoulders over her round breasts, almost hiding a pair of dark nipples, erect under the cold water. Water form rivulets as it flows between and over her breasts over her abs and hips, down in a tuft of silvery white hair covering her mons. She stands with her legs slightly apart, face turned up facing the water. She slowly runs her hands over her shoulders, down over her breasts over her abs. She cups one breast and lift it slightly while she in excruciating detail cleans below, between and over her breasts in turn.  
One hand works down over her abdomen again, down between her legs and up again, fingers combing trough the silvery bush.  
You crawl up on your knees and your hand shoots down between your legs. Your tight belt blocks the way. You break your eyes away from the brown angel in front of you and look down as you fight with the clasp of your belt.  
As you fumble with the clasp a niggling thought makes itself heard through your blurred mind.  
How did you get to the basin before Anya despite you spending such time with preparing the drying meat?  
Your clasp comes lose, your right hand finds your raging erection and you look up.  
Anya is looking directly back at you across the pool.  
Trapped.  
Panic fills your mind as you scramble away from your hiding spot, away from the naked demon across the pool.  
You try to rise and run but your pants fall down and trap your legs tripping you.  
You hear loud splashing behind you and a primal terror takes over.  
Like a rabbit in a snare you trash on the ground, trapped by pants entangled in your boots.  
Grabbing you from behind as you try to kick free, a strong arm reaches across you, grabs your wrist and pins your arms to your chest, hard as an iron band. You try to curl your knees up over your stomach but powerful legs wrap around yours, forcing you straight. You're trapped. The wolf has the rabbit.  
You feel the dampness of her skin soak trough your jacket and the softness of her breast press harder than ever into you.  
Anya rolls over on her back with on top of her and she tightens her grip forcing you you into an arc. Her chin is resting on top of your head and you feel her hard breathing reverberate through your body as her chest rise and fall under you.  
You feel like a small butterfly in the tender embrace of a spider. Her hand quickly searches your lower body until it finds your hard shaft.  
She grips it gently. You cease your struggling, close your eyes and accept you punishment.  
Her grip around your erection tightens sharply to an almost painful degree and you draw you wince sharply. The grip softens and she slowly start to stroke up and down. The unfamiliar pleasure of her soft hand cause you to draw a sharp breath and Anya, noting your every reaction trough her grip on you speeds up in response.  
Her squeezing and tugging forces large amounts of precum to leak from the tip of your dick and soon your shaft is slick with your own lubrication.  
Fear, pleasure and humiliation mix in your mind. Her hand feels burning on your dick, the unexpected squeezes and changes in rhythm leaves your mind reeling, unable to guess or adapt. She places her index finger on top of the head of your penis and the sensation makes you gasp in pleasure.  
Her finger rubs back and forth over your tip as the rest her hand continue to work up and down you shaft. You feel your shaft jerk as your orgasm builds. Anya quickens her stroking to a blur and suddenly without warning your mind goes blank as explode into her hand, thick viscous cum shooting in bursts again and again.  
She has her hand closed around the tip of your penis until you go flaccid. She brings her sticky hand above your faces and explores the cum in her hand, rubbing it between her fingers for texture and making strings between her thumb and index finger. She moves her hand above your head and you hear her lick the cum as she tastes it.  
Her grip on lightens a bit. Thinking she's done try to wriggle free. Instantly her grip tightens. She is not done with you.  
As if to punish you for trying to escape, she returns her hand to your flaccid dick. You stand little chance against her this time, her hand sticky with her saliva and your cum. You are soon hard again and now armed with the knowledge of how dicks work she attacks relentlessly. Your mind fills with nothing but pleasure as her hand milks your dick.  
She experiments with twists, squeezes and touches, coaxing every weakness from you.  
You feel another orgasm build but suddenly she slows her pace and you feel it recede.  
"You name" she asks her voice soft but deadly like a snake.  
"Emanuel" You croak.  
"You name? she hisses sharply.  
"Emanu-" your you manage before the arm over your chest tightens to an impossible degree, choking you like a python.  
"Name" she hisses.  
"Lum" you hiss in pain.  
Immediately the grip releases and her hand on your dick springs into action, pushing you over the edge. Your mind goes blank with pleasure.  
You are left gasping for breath, face covered with your tears and saliva as your climax subsides.  
Anya nuzzles your hair, still holding you in her firm grip. Her hand begins to stroke your dick again.  
You start to plead for mercy but Anya not understanding hushes you to silence softly. Tears and drool run down your face, pleasure fills your mind again as you go hard.  
"Name" Anya whispers softly.  
You don't answer. Anya quickens her pace stroking your shaft and you feel a third climax build.  
Anya keeps building you up and then relaxes, letting you recede. Again and again. Your mind goes blank and you feel your eyes roll upwards, your whole body hurts from her grip and the constant teasing, aching for release.  
"P-please" you beg in a desperate voice.  
"Name" Anya whispers barely audible.  
"Lum! Lum!" you almost sob out.  
Anya jerks your dick with an almost painful speed and you moan loudly as your third orgasm racks your body. Your mind is blank and your vision flashes. Your body feels limp like dough in her hands. She releases her grip on you and strokes your hair with her clean hand.  
She wipes tears from your eyes.  
"You Lum" Anya purrs softly.  
How long you lay there, you on top of her, Anya stroking your hair and wiping your tears you don't know. You feel her to her feet and you spill on the ground. You feel to tired and humiliated to move.  
You feel yourself getting lifted up in her strong arms and you look up to see Anya look down at you a warm smile on her face. Her green eyes glitter when she looks at you. You doze off.  
When you wake up find yourself looking into a small fire your cheek rests on something soft. It's dark.  
You roll over on your back and find that Anya has your head in her lap and she is patting your head again. Dressed in her usual loincloth and leather wrappings again she has pulled your pants back up and smoothed your wrinkled jacket. All feels calm and quiet.  
The memories of what happened by the waterfall feels almost distant like a dream but the ache in your body and groin is a very present testament to the veracity of the event.  
You move to get up but Anya gently pushes you back into her lap.  
"Lum rest" she says, eyes glittering with love.  
"Lum good" she repeats over and over, voice soft and warm.  
You close your eyes and try to make sense of a tornado of conflicting emotions inside you.  
You feel violated, assaulted and humiliated. At the same time you remember the immense pleasure, your fantasies about her and some parts of you feel that the events at the waterfall went far better than you could ever dream of. The conflict in your mind makes you tired.  
"Sleep" you mumble. You hope you and Anya went over sleep during your mutual treatise of the pup tent.  
You wave vaguely towards the tent to reinforce your point. Anya picks you up like you're a small child and carries you over to the tent.  
You don't bother to protest.  
She gently places you by the tent and you crawl inside and collapse on the greatcoat. Anya crawls inside after you and pulls you into her warm embrace. Her soft breasts against you, her smooth skin against your cheek and her strong arms around sends another wave of conflicting feelings crashing against your mind but you are too tired to care. You fall asleep quickly.


	2. Escape from the Bermuda triangle chapter 2

"Oi, get your boots moving ya cheeky wanker!"  
Drill sergeant Callanach, a scottish man with the face of a ginger walrus is screaming at you.  
"Keep pace or I'll glass ya, ye wee cunt!"  
Your life is a dredging misery of marching, climbing and crawling. A long line of equally miserable cadets stretch out before you, all carrying heavy rucksacks and rifles. Along the marching line of unfortunate souls, Sgt Callanach runs back and forth sceraming orders and obscenities at you, seemingly powered by his own rage, face red.  
Time has lost meaning, marching and sore feet is the only thing you know, the sole real substance of the world.  
Up and down the hills of the Scottish highland you march. You are hungry. You are cold.  
"Are ye sorry lot the best England can produce we might as well roll over to the fookin nazis right now" Callanach screams, rage and energy seemingly unlimited.  
It starts raining and your very essence become cold and wet. You wish for death but a cruel world ignores your pleas.  
The ground turns to a muddy mess and new, previously unexplored peaks of misery looms before you.  
Your legs turn to jelly. You try to keep walking but it feels as if the ground below you grabs on to your boots, the mud sucking you down.  
You fall, face first into the muck.  
With a roar of unbridled rage Sgt Callanach sprints over to you. He stands above you screaming in a dialect so thick it's all but unintelligible. You roll over on your back and look at him. Large deep emerald eyes look back.   
You wake up with a start.  
It's warm and you hear bird song in the distance. You are tucked in under the greatcoat in the tent. For a moment you cannot figure out where you are but the events of the past few days come back to you. The events by the waterfall. You feel numb inside remembering it.  
You close your eyes and force the memory from your mind. There is sounds of metal pots and fire outside.  
You crawl outside and see Anya using the large pot from the mess kit cooking something over a small fire.  
When she see you emerge from the tent her face brightens up and she waves you over. Seeing her you are filled with a myriad of conflicting emotions again. For a moment you consider retreating back into the tent but the smell of her cooking tips the scale in favor for facing the day.  
Cautiously you approach the fireplace and sits down opposite her. The humiliation you suffered at her hand has driven a spike of ice into your heart and you regard her every movement with suspicion.  
Not seeming to notice, Anya thrusts a pot into your hands. Inside it there appears to be some kind of stew made of dried meat, roots and other bits of bits of plants you can't identify. The smell is intoxicating. You take a careful sip. It might be hunger speaking but you think it's the best thing you've tasted since the hamburgers of America. Any angst you have is put on hold as you focus on gulping down the stew, all table manners forgotten.  
Despite that Anya provided you with an Anya-sized portion you make short work of the food, not caring that it's almost scalding hot.  
Finished with the meal you put the pot down and look at Anya with no small feelings of admiration for her cooking skills.  
Anya is literary beaming with pride.  
Between a belly filled with hot food and Anyas smile, the ice in your heart begins to thaw somewhat.  
Jumping to her feet, Anya moves with a spring to her step. She gathers up various bits of drying meats and herbs she's hung up do dry and wraps them in palm leaves, tying the packages with strings of stripped bamboo.  
You slowly begin to wash out the mess kit with the canteen as you watch her work.  
"Lum, pick tent. We move"  
Anya gestures towards the tent.  
Lum. A hammer strikes a blow on the icy nail in your heart. Yet, the order she gave was such that the cadet inside you wakes to life and overrides the officer.  
You get to your feet and start to dismantle the tent. Anya being unconscious when the pup tent was erected walks over and observes your work intently. Her close scrutiny only serves to reinforce the feeling of being a cadet again, memories of hours upon hours spent having every detail of your life under the close watch of drill sergeants spring to life.  
With military discipline and speed you pack the pup tent, stack and strap the mess kit together and pack the backpack. You catch yourself almost standing to attention and saluting Anya.  
Anya raises an eyebrow and gives you a questioning look. Slightly embarrassed you return your focus to the backpack. You take the leaf packages Anya prepared and stuff the in the backpack too, intensely hoping that no one ever finds out that a British officer almost saluted a savage.  
Anya shrugs and shifts her attention to the fireplace, putting it out with dirt.  
You shoulder the backpack and pick up your rifle, preparing for march.  
Your rifle. Heavy, hard and cold. In the Odyssey, Homer wrote The Blade Itself Incites to Deeds of Violence.  
The Americans say that God created men but Samuel Colt made the equal.  
In a way you never knew before you understand their words, a deep darkness wells up inside you.  
Anger over the pain you suffered, the power she exerted over you, indignities subjected, it feels like it's radiating off you.  
The rifle, instrument of power, dealer of justice. All is equal before a bullet. Even Anya.  
Anya stops her work and looks over at you, worry written all over her face.  
"Lum?" she asks, worry on her voice.  
You look at her, eyes filled with dark intent. Your knuckles go white gripping the rifle.  
You close your eyes.  
No.  
You draw a deep breath and swallow. Anya is not your enemy.  
You think of the war in Europe and Africa. Some of your comrades might already be slain. Others might be captured and interred as POWs and who knows what horrors they suffer at the hands of the nazis?  
You force the darkness inside you away.  
You sling your rifle over your shoulder, walk over to Anya and kicks some dirt over the last embers.  
Looking back at it, you cannot deny that you enjoyed the waterfall incident and what humiliation you've suffered at the hands of the seniors at the academy, hazing the fresh cadets cruelly. Lum isn't even such a bad nickname, you have been called far worse before.  
Your dignity will survive and even if it doesn't you at least you traded it for masturbation fuel for months to come.  
The status of your immortal soul is also safe you feel, when they talk about no sex before marriage, they only really important bit is virginity, right? Become one of flesh and all.  
Anya gives you a worried look but you see no fear in her eyes. You realize that without the bayonet, Anya doesn't know the dangers of guns other than the noise.  
Suddenly ashamed at your sudden dark thoughts you decide that rifle training with Anya can wait until you both have forgotten you little episode of angsty darkness.  
"Go?" you suggests.  
Anya, still looking a bit worried nods.  
She picks up her spear and uses it to point into the jungle.  
"We go there, go to falling water of Kaiseen"  
You don't know what a Kaiseen is but you gather as much as that she want to go to another waterfall.  
"Go to Anya home?" you try. If you get to her village you might find a missionary clues to where civilization might be reached.  
"NO"  
The tone and look Anya gives you make you shrink in your boots. You nod.  
Anya smiles and sets of in the appointed direction. You follow after. The first few hundred yards is just dense forest but soon you end up on a small animal path trailing along in the undergrowth.  
Anya being eight feet tall and born into the jungle makes it hard to keep up and you suddenly feel an almost positive emotion about Sgt Callanach for his efforts to make you able to keep up with the hypnotizing butt that sways before your eyes.  
No threats or curses any drill sergant ever made could have kept you marching as arduously as Anyas hips in front of your eyes.  
That is not to say that Anya did not march you hard.  
By the time you reach the second waterfall, this one forming an even larger plunge pool, you are beside yourself with exertion.  
Your eyes and mind locked on her butt and only the promise of her butt keeping you legs moving you, bump into her.  
Anya turns around and gives you an annoyed look. Your mind still locked in the autopilot of military march follows the practiced patterns, drilled into you by endless marching.  
"One-hundred-sixty-fifteen-four-hundred-fiftyone Cadet Lambton request permission to sit down, SIR!"  
Anya gives you a look of utter confusion at what you said.  
Your mind takes a moment to recognize what you did but you are too tired to feel embarrassed. You simply drop your gear on the ground and slumps down against a tree.  
You look around to see where Anya has led you. The tree your sitting against is on the edge of a small clearing next to the pool of the waterfall. The pool of the waterfall is much bigger and deeper compared to the one before, it's more of a lake. The waterline is edged by broken rocks, edges somewhat smoothed over the centuriesby the flowing water.  
"No one can imagine the beauty of the view from anything witnessed in England. It had never been seen before by European eyes; but scenes so lovely must have been gazed upon by angels in their flight." Dr. Livingstone had said about the Victoria Falls and had you been poetic and/or not exhausted beyond yourself you would have tried to formulate an equally fitting description.  
Instead you just lean against the tree and take in the looks.  
Anya sits down besides you legs crossed. She taps her lap and looks at you.  
Your mind slowed by exertion doesn't connect the dots fast enough so Anya simply picks you up and sets you down in her lap.  
She leans back against the tree, closes her arms around you and makes a content sigh like everything is right in the world.  
Having her soft breasts as cushions you feel like you are leaning against a cloud. As soon as you close your eyes sleep hits you.  
When you wake up the sun has moved about two hours across the sky and it's approaching afternoon.  
Anya is skinning yet another animal, a small boar. You wonder at Anyas hunting prowess given that you have yet to see a larger animal.  
Now properly rested you set up the pup tent and take time to spread a thick layer of palm leaves under the great coat.  
While the both of you work you continue to work on the language barrier.  
Working on adjectives and preposition you flesh out your understanding of the savage language. You get the feeling that Anya is far more intelligent than her brutish exterior lets on.  
While she isn't quite keeping up with you language wise, you wonder how much is your natural talent keeping you ahead and how much is your time spent behind a bench in some of the most prestigious schools London had to offer.  
As a final touch on the tent you construct a canopy of leaves over the tent, guarding against the sun from baking you alive in the morning as it heats the dark canvas.  
It's not Buckingham palace but you're getting there.  
Having spent most of the day marching and preparing camp, the sunset approaches.  
Anya, finished with dressing the boar, has spitted it over a bead of coals and stuffed it with leaves and herbs.  
Once again the smell of roasting meat fills the air. You sit down beside Anya as she turns the spit.  
There is something you cannot quite figure out.  
"Anya" you begin. Anya looks up from prodding the embers under the pig.  
"Why you jump and feel me before?" you try.  
Anya not understanding frowns and silently mouths to herself as she tries to puzzle out what you're asking.  
You play a small charade where you falls on your back, jumped by an invisible Anya, prodding your chest like she did. Anyas face lights up when she understands.  
"Anya thought Lum strange girl child when first meet." She explains with a serious voice.  
Just like that, with a the precision of a sniper rifle she shreds the last vestige of masculinity you had left.  
"Strange child take blade of bone from ɓɻ͡ʊ̈ð͡ɮɚ͜ʂʋɑ̃͡ɸɛ̃ʈ. Anya take child and blade back." She continues.  
"Anya very shocked when Lum not girl but big man! Anya very very lucky!" she proclaims and draws your face into her chest in a big hug.  
While you don't mind your face buried between her breast, something does not add up here.  
First you where a girl child and then a man? A big man at that. And from what or whom did she think you took the bayonet?  
You decide to wait with voicing your concerns as Anya is gently rocking left and right, happily humming to herself while hugging you.  
If giving up your dignity as a man affords you this, it's something you could seriously consider.  
A sizzling and popping sound returns your minds to the pig over the fire. The disappointment over being released from the hug is replaced by excitement as the pig seems about done.  
Anya prods the meat and apparently deeming the meat done wrenches an entire leg loose and digs in with her usual passion.  
Still clinging onto civilization you use the bayonet to carve slices into the mess kit.  
The herbs stuffed inside the pig has worked wonders, the meat is filled with exotic flavors. Between Anyas cooking and the wonders of this new world, you actually enjoy yourself.  
You start to wonder if it would be possible to gather seeds from these new spices? The climate here is not too different from some of the colonies you think.  
Large temperate broad-leafs, bamboo, ferns and short palm trees. South east Asia maybe? Indochina?  
You could start a plantation selling spices and amass a small fortune.  
Having some servants, a butler and a brown 8 feet tall wif-Wait, what? How did that nestle inside your daydreaming?  
You shake your head clear from those awkward thoughts but the image of Anya in a Victorian dress intrigues you. Anya in a maid uniform maybe? A sundress and straw hat might look good on her. Anya in a wedding dre-God damn it!  
You decide to focus on the meat for the time being.  
By the time the pig is reduced to a skeleton it's dark outside and a large moon rises above the treeline.  
You and Anya sit by the fire overlooking the waterfall pool.  
Looking at the moon, you wonder if it always been that large? Where is the sea of tranquility? This is the first time looking at the moon from another continent, maybe you see a different side from here? You've never been into astronomy so you have really no idea.  
"Lumsin" Anya says pointing at the moon.  
Fantastic. You're named after the moon. How terribly original.  
You have seen Anya perform various feats of superhuman strength, you have marveled at her cooking and drawn even with her on linguistics.  
Now you know that she has no sense of originality whatsoever. Despite her having turned you into a cliché you find it in you to forgive her. Worse crimes has been committed in this world.  
"Moon" you answer.  
You and Anya sit in silence for a time, gazing into the moon. In a strange way it's like romance is in the air.  
You turn to Anya, actually considering if you should recite a poem comparing her beauty to that of the moon and stars or something equally silly. This is the romance you've read countless of books about, this is the kind of courtship you know and love.  
As you turn your eyes meet hers and the night of clichés would have been complete had not the look in Anyas eyes gone beyond romantic, past lustful and full into sexual predator territory.  
The same eyes that caught you at the waterfall.  
It may be a flashback from the waterfall incident but it's equally possible any man currently not in the asylum would react exactly the same way when such eyes of raw hunger bore into you.  
Terror smacks into your face like a pie hits a clown and you quickly shuffle backwards, away from her. Anya get to her hands and knees and crawls toward you slowly, licking her lips. You see her shoulder blades and hips move and sway in exaggerated unison, like a tiger on the prowl. Emerald eyes glow in the fire light, locking you like search lights.  
The wolf is back.  
You scramble to your feet and this time there is no pants around your legs. Quickly looking around you dash for the tent, the only cover you know. Anya calls after you.  
You take a head dive into the opening of the tent like how a soldier who hears the artillery falling would dive into a trench.  
Covering your head with your arms you curl into a shaking ball and await the beast hunting for you.  
Anya does not follow. Some time pass but Anya does not follow you into the tent. You fall asleep alone.

You wake up with a start. It's still pitch black outside, the fire is out. Laying on your side you feel Anyas back towards yours. For once she is not embracing you while you sleep together. You suddenly feel terribly guilty for your previous actions, for running from Anya.  
You could have told her no, you could have gently refused her advances and a stirring in your groin tells you that some parts of your body wish you would have tried to overpower her and accept whatever 'punishment' she might mete out. You ought not to have run at least.  
You fear that you might have hurt her feeling terribly bad. You remember the eyes of love looking down at you the previous night. What if you broke her heart? What if she starts to hate you.  
Shame burns within you, almost bringing tears to your eyes and you feel terrible. You resolve to apologize, to beg for forgiveness or even prostrate yourself before her in need be.  
You turn over to face her back. In the cramped tent you are pressed up against her back and you bury your face between her shoulder blades, her silvery hair against your skin.  
Her hair is soft almost like silken and it smells of her fill your nostrils.  
You hear her soft breathing and you feel that she must be asleep.  
"Sorry, sorry, sorry" you whisper.  
You run your fingers trough her hair, gently combing it against her back. You lay there several minutes and whisper apologies while you smooth and comb trough her hair with a feathers touch.  
Feeling her muscles under her hair, you reach under and lets you fingertips run over the powerful contours. Every muscle feels defined and in the complete darkness your fingertips works as your eyes as you identify the shapes and contours. You run your hands along her spine, down to her smaller back, up over her waist where you let your hand rest while you mumble up your quiet serenade of apologies. Running your fingers up her to her side you feel every serratus muscle as a distinct bump under her skin. Any strongman would kill for a body like this.  
Tracing up to her shoulder you feel where her large deltiod begins and you follow it with your hand down to where her bicep begins. With tone like this, her naked body could be used as a muscle chart. The thought of her naked body makes a heat rise in your cheeks and you feel a powerful urge to explore the shape of her breast. A mix of decency and fear of what she would do if she woke up finding you fondling her makes you slide your hand between her arm and side and rest it on her stomach. You leave it there for a while trying to sleep but her abs moving as she breathes makes you wish to explore more. You run your fingers along her abs, over her bellybutton, up and down, making sure not to stray too far in either direction. Her skin feels warm, almost sweaty under your fingertips. You find her other arm under her and run your palm over her elbow to her forearm resting against her body. You feel powerful muscles move slightly, almost pulse under her skin. Following the top of her forearm downwards, you feel the tendons in her arms move ever so slightly. You continue downwards until you realize where her hand is and you freeze all movement.  
Maybe because it was gradual but her breathing has definitely become deeper during your exploration. Did she...?  
Outwitted again?  
Her hand moves and gently grabs the top of your hand. Her fingers are warm and sticky. She presses your hand against her lower stomach and guides you downwards. You feel coarse hair between your fingers as she guides you further slowly. The lower you go there is moisture and the hair sticks ever so slight to your fingers. Your fingers run over sticky warm skin, soft as silk, your middle finger ever so slightly tracing a valley filled with moist stickiness. Anya presses your palm inwards and your mind focus in your single hand as you cup her puffy vulva. You spread your fingers sligtly, forcing her pussy lips apart. Anya gasps softly.  
Anya uses one hand to hold your hand in place and the other to guide your fingers in their exploration.  
Running your fingers up and down you explore every fold and crevice, your hand slick with Anyas nectar. Soon you develop a pattern, running two fingers up and gently massage her hard nub, then down again, inserting your middle and ring finger as far as you can reach into her wet deepness.  
Satisfied with the instructed pace and technique she leaves your hand to its own devices and pulls your other arm under her. She places your palm over her breast and you feel a hard nipple poking you.  
She keeps hand over yours and sets a rhythm squeezing and kneading.  
Having guided you to a start she rests her hands in front of her and lets her mind and body fully focus on the pleasure.  
Her soft breasts has a peculiar density to them and you knead and massage for a while before yo focus your attention to her nipple. Giving it a slight squeeze you hear Anya stifle a moan and you feel her tighten around your fingers buried deep in her.  
You rub and squeeze her nipples and gives her breasts gentle massages each in turn. Your other hand works its steady pace over her pussy, back and forth, playing with her nub and back down deep inside her with a steady rhythm.  
Wet noises fill the tent, mixed with silent gasps and moans.  
Pressed hard against her back with your ear to her body you take in every minute gasp and moan, every muscle contraction and quivering through your fingers. Every fiber of your being tuned to her signals you learn every secret of her body.  
Deep inside her you find a spot that makes her entire body flinch at a mere touch and you make sure to tease over it sometimes often, sometimes not at all, keeping her body guessing.  
You learn that ever so gently pinching her clit causes her to moan quietly.  
Loosing track of time you pour all you energy and emotion into Anya trough your hands.  
Her breath becomes ragged and you feel her squeeze even tighter than before around your fingers as you slide them inside her pussy. Feeling that the time has come for the final assault you bring both your hands to bear on her pussy. One hand focusing on massaging and circling her clit, the other delving deep inside her in and out, in and out teasing her weak spot relentlessly.  
Anya draws her breath sharply and you redouble your efforts. You are rewarded with a warm gushing in your palm, her pussy tightening in pulses around your fingers, tighter and tighter and a long soft moan reverberates trough her body, every muscle tight.  
Anya relaxes and for a moment you two just lay still, you hands soaked and buried between her legs. Her pubes are soaking and sticky and her hair matted with sweat.  
The smells of sweat and sex fill the tent.  
Anya rolls over on her back besides you panting heavily. First now you notice that you have a raging painfully hard erection. With your pants on, one hand trapped under Anya and no way to remove your belt with one hand, you resolve to never enter a tent wearing pants again.  
Anya shifts slighty, releasing your arm and she pulls you on top of her. Holding your head in both her hands she pulls you up, face to face with her. Despite the total darkness you can feel her eyes looking into yours and you feel her hot breath on your face.  
She utters no words but gives you a soft kiss on the lips. She then embraces you in a strong hug, nuzzles your hair and promptly falls asleep, snoring loudly.  
Still locked in her embrace you have no choice but to wait until you fall into a sexually frustrated sleep yourself.

The following morning you do not wake up alone. Anya, snoring loudly, is sprawled out over you pinning you to the ground. A pressure building in your bladder and feeling cranky from a poor nights sleep you manage to shift her enough to free yourself. Anya stirs slightly as you crawl out from under her towards the shining light outside.  
It's a beautiful day, the sun is slowly making its way over the treetops.   
You hurry into the forest and release pressure against a tree. Your body aches, partly from your long march the previous day, partly from having a giant sleep on top of you.  
Pent up sexual frustration might also play into your grumpy mood this morning. You having slept in your clothes for a while and Anyas bodily fluids permeating them, you notice you stink. You strip down naked and carry your bundle of dirty laundry to the waterfall. You dump the laundry in the water and jumps in after them. Washing yourself and the clothes thoroughly, the cold water cools your mind and stills the ache in you body.  
Laying the laundry to dry on the sun baked rocks you sprawl yourself beside them to dry in the sun as well. You think about using this free time to vent a whole night of frustrations but the raw memories burns inside you to such a degree that you feel that your hands can no longer do them justice.  
You look at your hands and feel frustrated. Should you try to enrage Anya to receive "punishment"? Insist on using your real name until she has to "train" you again?  
Deciding to give your hand a second lease and despite your earlier worries you quickly orgasm shooting your frustration into the water.  
It's not the same any more you feel. You feel more than slightly annoyed that despite you having years of practice, Anya is better than you at handling your dick on her first attempt.  
Suddenly feeling ashamed that you let yourself be dominated by such basal needs you clear your mind.  
Reminding yourself that you are an officer carrying important news and that you made a promise to a dying captain, you decide to do a quick mental check of the situation.  
-You have yet to figure out where you are.  
-You have enlisted the 'help' of a native who can provide you with food for the time being.  
-You have reasons to believe the natives have been exposed to civilization on some level.  
-You have yet to convince your enlisted native to take you to her settlement.  
Two out of four positive, not bad all in all considering your situation you feel.  
Looking at the sky you wonder idly if search and rescue planes have been dispatched to look for you. If so you have yet to see or hear anything of them.  
Planes.  
Had you not meddled with the infernal machines you wouldn't be in this situation to begin with. Had God intended Man to fly he'd given you wings. You feel like Icarus must have felt after his wings burnt off.  
You lie on your rock grumbling to yourself about planes, the sky and the foolish nature of man.  
After a while your stomach growls and your underwear has dried enough in the sun for you to don them.  
As you get to your feet, Anya emerges from the tent. She gets to her feet and stretches, both hands in the air. You get the full frontal picture lit by the morning sun, round breasts pointing to the sky, every muscle taut, the small silvery bush between her legs shining in the sunlight. You forget everything else and stare unabashedly.   
Anya snatches a packet of dried meat from the backpack and swaggers like a queen over to a tree, breasts and butt swaying majestically. She seats herself cross legged, leaning against the trunk, her white tuft proudly on display.  
Such a display of confident arrogance and sexual radiation you have never seen before.  
Still, having vented your frustrations moments earlier you keep your emotions in check. Remembering your hunger you retrieve a second package and takes a seat beside Anya, doing your best to ignore her nakedness.  
Slowly eating dried meat, Anyas expression is one of complete satisfaction. A feeling of pride wells up inside you, your ministrations on her last night must have really hit the spot.  
'Let each of you look not only to his own needs, but also to the needs of others', a verse from the bible flashes in your mind.  
Anya was evidently in great need last night and you could provide so you are still in Gods good grace, right?  
"No hunting?" you ask.  
"Anya too tired. Sleep well. Lum too good" she laughs and rests an arm over your shoulder. She pulls you in tight and the feeling of her hot skin against yours make it hard for you to keep your cool. Remembering your oath from the last night you focus on forming an apology.  
"Sorry for running last night" you say in a quiet voice.  
"Anya okay, Anya learn to catch Lum before reaching tent next time." She tries to joke it off but it's obvious the subject made her uneasy. You decide to quickly change the subject.  
"I can hunt if you tired" you say totally sincere. This was a funny joke to Anya as she laughs heartily, any unease forgotten.  
"Lum? Hunt? Nooooooo" she says in a condescending voice, looking at you with a warm smile. Parts of your manly ego you though long gone protest wildly.  
"I have rifle" you say in a provoked voice.  
"Boomspear only good for scaring frightful animals, not killing. Need to run. Need to be strong. Lum not strong" Anya lectures you. That's it, your wounded pride can take no more without some retaliation.  
"Rilfe scared you plenty" you note in an innocent voice. Shots fired as the Americans say.  
"Only surprised! Anya only surprised, trick only work once" Anya now agitated.  
"I can win without trick" you continue, knowing full well you are headed for deep water.  
Anya just looks down at you blankly. You look up at her and nod.  
"Dress" she orders you and jumps to her feet. In large strides she walk to her pile of leather wrappings and loincloth and dress up in a determined fashion.  
You make your way over to your uniform and dress up knowing that ye done shat yer bed as Sgt Callanach would have put it. You are way in over your head but your pride wont let you back down now.  
Anya silently watches you dress. You fetch the rifle, remove the bolt and magazine and fix the bayonet. You remove the scabbard from the frog and fix it in place over the blade with string. Any cuts will be indicated with soot rubbed over where the cutting edge would have been. You gesture towards her spear but Anya shakes her head. She intends to take you on unarmed. Walking to a spot ten feet from you and grins cruelly at you.  
Rifle in hand, bayonet fixed you look up at her, eyes filled with determination. British soldiers marched by the thousand into machine gun fire, towards certain doom without wavering an inch. You will not falter here.  
Training and discipline takes over and you level the bayonet at her, face blank. For a moment Anya looks confused, the scared rabbit from last night replaced by actual courage despite her fierce stare. Her face returns to one of serious business and she takes a fighting stance.  
Pro-action beats inaction you where taught and you go for a long thrust intending for a followup with an overhead swipe.  
Anya, quick as a striking viper, taps the blade with the back of her hand, forcing it slightly to the side. She spins inside the bayonet range, her one hand grabs your elbow, the other the end of the barrel forcing it up above and past your shoulder, pointing it backwards.  
Stepping her leg behind the back of your knee, the maneuver leaves you arched back almost kneeling and had she followed trough you'd end up without a rifle and a dislocated shoulder. All you have to show for it is a small touch of soot on the back of Anyas hand, in a real situation a minor cut. While she has you in the exposed position she wipes the soot off on your face before letting you fall to the ground in a heap.  
It's really on now and fire builds within you behind your disciplined exterior.  
You return to your positions.  
This time Anya rushes you and in what is almost a replica of your first encounter many days ago you end up holding the rifle between you, the difference now that Anya twists the rifle so hard that you flip over and crash to the ground, your arms and elbows throbbing. She throws the rifle before you, gives you a superior smirk and returns to her position.  
Flashbacks to close combat training enter your mind. Memories of you being clobbered and thrown about in training by drill instructors and street taught alley boy cadets.  
One benefit of training with Glasgow kids is that you learn how to fight dirty, how to fight to win.  
You return to your position.  
You feint the same move again and Anya growing overconfident goes for the same counter. This time however you drop the rifle from your right hand as she grabs on to the barrel forcing it up to your left. Your empty right arm going in for a feint butt stroke, Anya reflexively goes to grab the stock. Only the stock isn't there. Anya pushing on the barrel, the rifle pivoting in your left hand, the heavy butt of the rifle arcs downward, in up between Anyas legs. You pull back on the rifle to stop it from making contact but momentum is a harsh mistress.  
Despite your best efforts to pull back Anya gets a light blow right between the legs. There is not enough force in the blow to cause injury and Anya lacking testicles, you feel she got off lightly. Still it must have hurt like the devil, maybe it's the blow landing in such a private area or wounded pride that makes Anya grab her crotch and jump around screaming obscenities you don't understand.  
Thanks for that one cadet Drummond you fuck, you chuckle to yourself. You still wince remembering yourself on the receiving end.  
Fuck cadet Drummond.  
Anya stops her howling and gives you a look that drains the blood from you face.  
Slowly she returns to to her position.  
"Again" she growls.  
She has the look of a lioness of whom you have stepped repeatedly on the tail. Dark intent radiate from her.  
Not daring to disobey her you return to your position, rifle almost shaking.  
You close your eyes and grips the rifle closely to your chest as Anya barrels into you, sending you and the rifle flying to the ground.  
Before you can react, Any straddles you and pins your arms above your head. Her hair drapes down around her face as she leans over you and you look straight into her eyes.  
You get the distinct feeling that punishment is due and that you might not enjoy it this time.  
If you where right you may never know for the next moment a blinding light and a thunder fills the sky. Anya releases your arms and quickly bends over you. She draws your head into her breasts as she shields your body with hers.  
Your face buried between her breasts, most you see is darkness but you think you see lightning flashes and the ground rumbles with thunder. The violent thunderstorm soon shifts into a high pitched whining and buzzing noise and Anya release you from her embrace. As she straightens up and looks to the sky you behold something that forever etches itself into your mind  
The blue summer sky is torn asunder like a giant rift has been torn in the fabric of the sky itself. The tear in the sky is outlined by what looks like lighting, making the edges shift and twist while electrical tendrils whip the sky. Inside the rift a rainstorm rages.  
You marvel at the broken sky, to amazed at what you see to even think. Suddenly the rift closes with a loud snap and the sky is blue again. Except for a small dot trailing a black line behind it.  
You and Anya stare silently at the small dot scribbling its doom across the sky. You think it might be getting bigger.  
The pilot you realize must have seen the large plunge pool by your camp and is aiming to make an emergency landing, just like your captain did.  
The plane quickly getting bigger, the idea of taking cover has completely left your mind.  
The pilot must have misjudged his final approach as the plane, a smaller single engine fighter, roars overhead trailing a thick plume of smoke. It disappears beyond the treetops and you hear a roar as fire and black smoke mushroom towards the sky.  
Anya, still straddling you looks down at you. You look back. You both scramble to action. You grab the rifle, slams the bolt and magazine back in place and take of running towards the fire. Anya having recovered her spear and tied the medicine pouches to her loincloth takes off after you.  
You soon reach a blazing inferno in the forest, Anya pulls you back while shielding her face from the intense heat.  
"Thunderbird dying, not disturb!" she shouts over the blaze.  
She drags you backwards and you let yourself be dragged, any hope of a pilot surviving gone.  
Anya picks you up and half running carries you back to camp. She seats you on the ground sit down opposite you. She looks you straight into the eyes.  
"Thunderbird die in thunder and anger. Death upon those who see them" she warns. As if to reinforce her point a bomb or rocket detonates in the fire. Anya winces.  
Pieces falls into place in your mind. The flashes outside the aircraft. The sudden jungle. The strange moon. Skin and bone, artifacts of your civilization.  
You wordlessly get to your feet, rifle falling from limp fingers. In a haze you shamble to the tent, crawl inside and cry.

The following morning is a blur. You wake up, crawl outside and see Anya by the fire. She asks something and you mumble something.  
You spend most of the day sitting with your feet in the water, idly splashing.  
The shock of you realized that you are not marooned on an unexplored island but in a new world has driven the spirit from you.  
For a while Anya sits beside you, patting your head. She feels your forehead for fever and maybe imagining something to to ease her worries she prepares a concoction from leaves and herbs.  
She takes you in her lap and places the mug to your lips. The taste is worse than awful but you feel too apathetic to care  
Anya thrusts a pot of something hot into your hands and you absentmindedly eat.  
All you set out to do, failed. You are effectively dead as far as your world is concerned, you might as well lay down and die for all the good it'll make you. You see the sun crawl a steady pace across the sky. Shadows slowly rise and fall.  
Anya patiently hold you in her lap, rocking back and forth.  
'All up to you, kid'.  
The words of the captain echo trough your mind. Images of the dead pilots flash by your eyes.  
Those where lucky ones you feel.  
No.  
Something inside you stirs. Those are the dead ones. You gently unwrap Anyas arms from around you and get up. Wandering to the backpack you open a side compartment and bring out the wallet. You look at the photo inside. Miss Anderson.  
You read the name and address on the telegram  
C.J Anderson  
1512 Ahrens Ave,  
Cheyenne, WY 82007  
You remember London a few years ago on your way to school. A mailman digs his way trough the ruins of a house, to get to a mailbox underneath. You remember James "Jack" Knight and his night flight.  
The Mail Always Goes Through.  
You straighten your back. While you might be dead for all intents and purposes back home, you are technically still alive only if just a bit dimensional challenged at the moment.  
You have seen a rift open. It has happened several times from the looks of it. It will happen again and you will get trough or die trying.  
'Come hell or high water' was the words and there is still a lot of stiff upper lip left in you.  
Stuffing the wallet in your pocket you walk over to Anya, squatting beside her.  
Feeling terrible for causing her such worry, you place your hand on her shoulder.  
"Thanks Anya. I'm better now."  
"Thunderbird bit Lum in rage. Poison." Anyas voice trembles with worry, her eyes almost tearing up.  
"No. Or maybe. No. I'm better now. You made me good" you reassure her.  
Anya gets up on her knees and hugs you. She really likes hugging, she does.  
"Anya, can we go to your home? I wish to see it." you ask. You feel the only way forward now is talking to someone older who has seen these storms often. You need to find out if there are more pilots stranded here.  
Anya Grabs you by the shoulders and looks down into your eyes, her face serious.  
"No. They take Lum from Anya. Anya only one. Anya can't protect Lum at home. We can't go until Lum is Anyas whole. Anya hide Lum here until so."  
Someone will take you away? The risk is real you admit. Make you hers as a whole? Like she hasn't asserted her herself over you multiple times by now. Well there is the final step and there is some places you can't go with her just yet, no matter how much your loins ache.  
You also feel that it's time for Anya to see that you can protect the both of you with the remnants of your world that you brought with you.  
"Anya, take me hunting" you ask calmly. Anya frowns a bit but she nods eventually.  
"No food for evening, we hunt now" she says, voice businesslike. Gathering up your respective weapons as you make ready to set out.  
You scrape the tip of a few bullets and load them in the rifle. Anya threads her loincloth rope trough the bayonet frog and turns to you.  
"No shoes. No pants. No jacket. Makes noise. We sneak." Anya orders. Slightly embarrassed you strip to your underwear in front of Anya. Clad in you boxers and your rifle Anya nods approvingly and sets off. You follow her.  
Anya moves like water over the terrain, silent as a cat. You feel like a bull behind her.  
Stopping momentarily to regard a seemingly undisturbed spot on the ground she soon sets off in a different direction.  
Keeping up with Anya is no mean feat but the feeling of dirt under your feet and the wind against your skin awakens some instincts inside you.  
The thrill of the hunt. You feel like senses sharpen, you listen for rusting in the undergrowth, you notice every contour and shadow.  
Anya freezes and raises a hand.  
Silent maneuver drills kick in and you freeze as one with Anya. Leaves rustle in the wind.  
Anya waves all clear and moves forward, You follow suite.  
The pattern repeats again and Anya crouches down, spear at the ready. She waves you over and point in the direction of a clearing. Crouching you sneak forward,looking in the direction she's pointing. Some hundred and fifty yards in front of you a large buck stands profiled towards you. It's a clear shot.  
Your hear your own heartbeat in your ears and adrenalin surges within you.  
"Now we sneak" Anya whispers softly into your ear.  
If you start sneaking now, what did she do before you wonder.  
As Anya starts to move you place your palm on her thigh stopping her. You slowly shake your head.  
You signal Anya to cower her ears and shoulder your rifle.  
She's frantically whispering something and gestures as wildly as he dares but the heartbeat in your ears drown all noise and the world forms a tunnel between you and your prey. You steady yourself against your knee and you worry that the deer might get spooked should your heart beat any louder. Anya covers her ears beside you.  
You fire. The deer jumps away.  
The world returns around you and your heartbeat fades.  
The gunshot echoes trough the forest. You look at Anya who gives you a dark look.  
"Now deer spooked for half a days tracking" she scolds you. Praying under your breath that you actually hit and didn't blow your chance at felling a buck and proving yourself to Anya, you follow her as she grumbles her way over to the clearing.  
Ten yards into a fern bush, the deer lies dead. It was a clean lung shot. The bullet left a hole the size of a child's fist as it exited the deer.  
Anya looks from the hole in the deer, to you, beaming with pride, to the rifle over and over as the events of the past few days radically changes form in her mind.  
"Give me." she orders. You reluctantly surrender your gun, snapping it to safe before handing it over. You where prepared for this when you decided to show her the power of the rifle.  
Your continued survival is going to be dependent on Anya to a far greater degree now that you know the true nature of your predicament.  
Anya, her knowledge and strength will protect you from the unknown dangers far better than the rifle could.  
Still, to willingly surrender your weapon is not something you do lightly. It goes against your training as a soldier and officer, it was your only safeguard against Anyas inhuman strength.  
You feel completely exposed, standing half naked in the forest, unarmed. Yet, you also feel relieved, like you've fully committed yourself to a path and to Anyas protection. Despite your history, you feel safe fully exposed to Anya. Looking at her, you wonder what she must think right now.  
She has been operating under the presumption that she was in full control this entire time. That the rifle was some kind of noise making device to throw adversaries off guard. She inspects the rifle cautiously in her hands and looks at you and the rifle in turn.  
You feel nervous.  
Wordlessly she slings the rifle across her back. She guts the deer and heaves it over her shoulders. You follow her silently as you make your way to camp.  
Sun is almost setting as you enter camp. You head over to the fireplace and start the fire while Anya cuts down the deer in pieces and let them hang from a tree, still not speaking.   
You stand by the fire and feel the heat on your skin trying to think how you'd react in Anyas position.  
Coming from a world where guns exist, you are ingrained with the knowledge that even a weak granny could instantly end you if she has a gun of some sort.  
In Anyas world, strength of body and skill in melee is what gives you power over someone else. You with the gun has put a serious dent in Anyas perceived position of dominance. Given how she reacted when you managed to land a blow on her during sparring, she can't be too pleased knowing that this whole time the gun granted you power equal or greater than hers.  
Will she be satisfied with having disarmed you? Given how protective she seems to be, maybe she feels safe with the knowledge of you being able to protect yourself? No, the soldier in you feels that it is the duty of the strong to hold the gun so that the weak may not be exposed to danger. Still, if there where hoodlums about your old granny's house, maybe you'd want her to have a gun just in case?  
You realize that you also have to factor in how the culture of power one grow up in, from what cultural context will Anya regard you and the gun?  
How will Anya deal with this?  
You feel Anyas strong hands on your shoulders. You had been so engrossed in your conundrums about the psychology of power that you did not notice her behind you.  
She leads you to the tree, seats herself and pulls you into her lap. A strong arm locks around your arms and chest. She pulls down your boxers. To reassert her dominance. That's how Anya deals with this.  
She reaches licks her hand and starts to massage your flaccid dick. You feel yourself rise but you don't fight it, trying to relax despite your nervousness. Some of the panic from the waterfall incident stirs inside you but you try to endure with dignity.  
Anyas large hand grips your erection tight and begins to stroke rapidly like she wants to get this over quickly. Her grip is too tight and it's more pain than pleasure. Frustrated by the lack of progress Anya increases her pace even more. You whimper in pain and feel yourself begin to deflate.  
Anya releases your dick and shifts you to sitting across her lap, one arm supporting your back. She grips your chin and forces you to look up into her face. You look at her, her eyes unreadable. She bends down and kisses you forcefully. Her tongue forces itself between your lips, darting across your teeth.  
You close your eyes and open your mouth to let Anya in. The taste of her saliva fills you, her tongue wrestling over and under yours. You begin to wrestle back, pushing at her tongue with yours. You feel a small spark of rebellion inside you and push your tongue inside her mouth, on the attack. She bites down gently on your tongue making you gasp. Taking advantage of the lapse in concentration on your part Anya injects her tongue even further into your mouth. Her tongue is long and slippery, almost down your throat. You surrender in her arms.  
Completely in control of your face, Anya returns her hand to your dick, now rock hard and leaking precum and begins to stroke.  
Only pleasure is in you now and you twitch in her strong grip.  
Remembering your weaknesses, she runs a finger on top the head of your dick sending tingling sparks trough your body.  
Anya jerking away with wild speed, you feel yourself twitch as a climax builds within you. Anya gentles up her stroking immediately but pulls you hard into her with her arm around you.  
She intends for this to last and don't want you escaping. You try to wriggle but there is no use to it. You try to beg but any opening you leave, Anya uses in her vicious attacks on your mouth. All you manage is muffled whimpers.  
Anya resumes her stroking while still locking you in her long kisses. Her skins burns here it touches you, your body squirms in her grip.  
Ever so often she breaks her kisses and allows you to catch breath but attacks again before you manage to fully regain control of your breathing. Your mind starts to blank out.  
Anya ceases her strokes and breaks the kissing. You open your eyes and looks into her eyes. A wolf stares back. You open your mouth to beg for release but before you can utter a sound she locks her mouth with yours and her tongue shoots into you.  
She twists and squeezes around your hard shaft, fingers run over and around the fleshy tip of your dick, every touch sending waves of pleasure over you.  
Again she coaxes you towards an orgasm but lets you recede. You squirm violently. Anya ceases breaks one of her kisses and looks into your eyes, your face wet with tears and saliva.  
"Lum belongs to Anya" she says, voice like a soft growl.  
"Yes, YES" you agree.  
"Say Lum belongs to Anya" she growls softly.  
"Lum belongs to Anya" you whimper  
"Again. Louder" she demands  
"Lum belongs to Anya" you almost scream while Anya strokes your penis with agonizing slowness, you teetering on the edge of climax.  
In your blank state mind you believe it. You are Lum, you belong to Anya, you want to belong to her, you have always belonged to her.  
She smiles at you and pushes you over the edge.  
Thick globs of ropy cum shoot into Anyas hand. You feel like a puppet with its strings cut in her arms.  
For almost a minute you just lean against Anyas shoulder breathing deeply trying to catch your breath.  
Anya smiles at you.  
"Again" she purrs with a cruel edge to her voice as she starts to massage your flaccid cock.  
By the time it's dark, Anya has you howling your devotion to her into the night.

You lay by the fire, head propped up against the backpack while Anya roasts dear steaks over the fire. You are spent like you have been on a hard march, your body aching from straining against Anyas grip.  
Anya, looking mighty pleased with herself tends to the food while humming to herself. You doze off.  
Anya prods you awake and trusts a bamboo stick with pieces of roasted meat on into your hands.  
She sits down before you and places the rifle between you.  
"Tell Anya how boomspear works"  
"It's called a rifle" you remark.  
"Then tell Anya how rifle works" she demands, slightly annoyed.  
You eject a cartridge, pull out the bullet and pours the powder in your hand. Anya regards the components in your hands. You throw the powder on the fire causing a fireball to light up the night. Anya flinches and looks wide eyed at you.  
"Like death of small thunderbird" she says, eyes wide.  
"Almost" you agree.  
You explain in simple terms the workings of a gun, likening it to a blowpipe. You disassemble the bolt of the rifle in the firelight to show that there is no magic involved, just simple mechanics. While you are quite sure Anya don't understand the inner workings she agrees that no supernatural events take place in the rifle. She carefully picks trough the various parts, inspecting them carefully.  
"Tell Anya everything" She demands.  
"Everything what?" you wonder.  
"Where Lum come from, who make rifles, who makes such small parts from birds bone. Everything." she says, her eyes serious.  
You tell her everything. You tell her about England, about the war, about your training as an officer. You try to explain the nature of airplanes and their role in the war. You go on for almost an hour, trying the best to simplify and find analogs in nature for various objects and that you might have fallen trough the same sort of rift you saw in the sky the day before. Anya sits silent and listen intently.  
"Lum leading warriors in battle?" Anya asks giving you an incredulous look, voice full of doubt. Of all the wondrous things you told her, that's the thing she finds the hardest to believe. She doesn't need to have you locked in her grips moaning and drooling, she can emasculate you with a few words, just like that. You regain your composure.  
"Yes" you reply blankly.  
"Inpha should conquer England and German then. Army with men leading, not hard" Anya smirks to herself. You glance down at the rifle.  
"Inpha?" you ask. Anya gestures around her.  
"All Inpha, land of Inphas, we strong warriors. We take what we want." Anya flexes as if to prove her point. It is truly a sight to behold.  
You reassemble the rifle and places it in Anyas lap.  
"You might need this then."  
Anyas face grows serious. She regards you and the rifle for a moment.  
"Tonight Anya makes you hers, whole. Tomorrow we start travel to city." Anyas face is serious but there is a hunger inside her eyes.  
Despite your fantasies about her, hormones burning inside you, you are not ready for this step. Kissing and fondling is one thing but you, a man of christian values, brought up to the highest standards have some borders you will not cross.  
"No, not tonight" you beg, genuine pleading in your voice and eyes.  
Anya looks at you and her eyes soften.  
"Lum has two nights, then Anya take Lum willing or not" she says holding up two fingers. You nod eagerly  
"Rules is; Lum must not spill seed during wait AND Lum has to do all Anya ask" She continues. Wait, does she know that you have been jacking it alone? Did she see you? No matter, two days is plenty. You nod.  
You have a plan.

END CH.2


	3. Chapter 3

It's a sunny day, schools out for the summer, mother took you to a zoo in London this morning and you've got a large lollipop. You feel like a boss.  
Dressed in a white sailor uniform you sit on bales of hay by the stables of the Lambton manor you watch farrier Graham work. A brown mare, Sunny, is tied to a post outside the stables, basking in the sun. You like Sunny. She is big and calm, strong as, well, a horse. On your way home after school you pass by her pasture and you sometimes stop to feed her grass or pat her muzzle and if you bow your head to her, she'll nuzzle your hair and blow hot steam into your face from her nostrils.  
Father rides Sunny for fox hunts and Mr. Graham comes over every Saturday to work on hers and the other horses hooves. You like Mr. Graham for taking care of Sunny.  
Graham lifts Sunny's left front hoof and places it between his thighs. Movements fast and precise by years of experience he uses a pair of large pliers to pry out the nails of the horseshoe. The shoe slowly comes loose and Graham tosses it into a barrel full of old worn out horseshoes. Making a quick inspection of Sunny's hoof, Graham grabs a rasp from his tray of farrier tools and begins to trim her hoof wall. Sunny, used to Grahams touch, seems to be dozing off on the heat. Working quickly, Graham removes the shoes from all Sunny's hooves, trimming and cutting them each in turn.  
Being done with Sunny for the moment he walks over to an old anvil and brings out four flat bars of iron from his toolbox. He places one bar in a mobile gas furnace he has on the bed of his truck and heats it red hot. Soon hammer blows echo over the stable yard. You watch with fascination. Being able to form those solid rods of irons into bends and shapes, the color of red hot steel, the sparks, it all seems like magic in your mind. You walk over to Sunny as Graham works his magic on the iron. You let sunny have a bite of your lollipop and you dig trough the barrel of old horseshoes. Finding a shoe that's not too bent out of shape you walk over to Graham, who is just finished with his own horseshoe, dunking it in a trough of water with a hissing sound.  
"Mr. Graham, may I have this horseshoe, please? you ask him with your politest voice.  
"Sure laddie, but don't mind if I ask what the young lord has for business with an old horseshoe?" Graham answers, his voice hoarse and raspy from cigarette smoke and stable dust.  
"The Brewer brothers will be holding a horseshoes tournament tomorrow. I have wagered a whole cone of sweets that I can beat them" you explain.  
The Brewer brothers are among the best throwers but with a good horseshoe and some luck you feel confident you can beat them.  
"The Brewer boys throw a mean horseshoe laddie! You sure you are up for the task?" Graham laughs.  
"With a good horseshoe and some luck, yes!" you say, confidence in your voice. Graham laughs again.  
"Just give me a moment lad." Graham says with a smile. He fishes up a smaller horse shoe from the barrel and heats it in the forge. You watch curiously. Graham places the horse shoe on the anvil and begins to hammer. He angels out the heel opening increasing chances of catching it around the pin. He hammers it flatter and wider so it'll fly better, rounds it slightly for better spinning and as a final touch he ridges the right branch for better grip. He dunks the customized shoe in the water trough and hands it to you.  
"I added a little luck to your horseshoe" Graham says, winking at you.  
You hold the slightly warm masterpiece in your hands, marveling at his work. A smaller horse shoe is easier to throw but harder to hit with. This horse shoe is light but wide as a large heavy horseshoe made for a working horse. It's easy in the hand, and will fly straight like an arrow. This bad boy will win you soooo much candy in the future you know just by looking at it  
You look up at Graham, wonder in your eyes.  
"When I grow up, I will be a blacksmith and make horseshoes just like you Mr. Graham" you profess.  
"If ya eat your veggies you might just grow up strong enough to be a blacksmith. Now run along and let me finish up Sunny here, laddie" Graham says smiling.  
"I will Mr. Graham! Thanks Mr.Graham!" You shout as you run along.  
Later that evening after having proclaimed your future career to your father during dinner, he seats you in his study.  
"My Son, you will grow up to be a man of considerable import" father says with an important voice.  
"You will be sent to Sandhurst Academy, to be an officer and you will do your tour of duty in the colonies, like I did" he continues while pacing the room.  
"When time comes you will court and wed young Miss Cavendish and take over the Lambton estates." He turns and looks you in the eyes.  
"Blacksmithing or any kind of metal work is not proper for a Lambton" he says, voice stern.  
Your fathers work mostly consisted of signing papers and writing letters in your eyes, no fun at all. You do not care for the Cavendish girl either, a prancing girl in frilly dresses, no fun either. Still, your father was not a man who you said no to.  
You nod and accept your fated path.  
Lying awake in Anyas arms, Anya snoring loudly you remember all of this clearly. Look where your plans got me dad, you think. You look over at Anya. Well, not all bad.  
You know your father would NOT like what you plan to do next. If he cares to stop you he better show up and say so because you feel determined. That horseshoe had you reigning champion for over a year.  
You close your arms around Anya and falls asleep.

The following morning you wake up to the smell of cooking meat. Crawling out of the tent you see Anya cooking stew in the mess kit.  
You dress up and sit down beside her.  
"Good morning Anya" you yawn.  
"Sun's blessing Lum" Anya responds, which you figure is about the same as good morning in Inphan language. Anya gives you a pot of stew.  
"I need to go to the crashed aeroplane today" you say while eating your stew. It's as delicious as you remember it.  
"Grave of thunderbird cursed, only high sisters may go there. Lum man, curse awaits" Anya warns you.  
High sisters? Some kind of religious authority? You'll have to investigate this later if they are the ones who deal with the crashed planes and thus probably pilots, alive or dead.  
While you share some of Anyas misgivings about aeroplanes and having been on the receiving end of their "curses" back in London, you feel that you can deal with this particular one quite easy.  
"Aeroplanes Anya. I rode in on one. I know how deal with them" you say, voice level. Anya looks at you with half disapproval, and half worry in her eyes.  
"Anya believes Lum came with thunderbirds, with rifle and skin like moon."  
The less you are reminded about the cheesy nature of name the better you silently think to yourself.  
"Anya hunter, Anya know insides of fish, bird, lizard and all that walks on land, even great Maw beast. Anya has seen corpse of thunderbird and know even before Lum came that they are no living thing. High sisters say but Anya knows." Anya continues half to herself.  
So Anya isn't superstitious? You hope she keeps her misgivings about the teachings of these high sisters to herself while at home as heretics are usually not on best terms with the authority. That would seriously hamper your investigations when you arrive in the Inpha city. Or maybe the Inphas are a secular people in general and it's no big deal what Anya believes? Time will tell.  
"Still, Anya stay away from thunderbird corpse, Anya don't want to make high sisters angry."   
"What does high sisters do with the wrecks of the planes?" you ask.  
"High sisters bless the cursed earth so that bone and skin workers may collect their remains" Anya explains.  
"So only the crash site is cursed, not the remains?" Anya nods.  
That makes sense you think, Anya did not hesitate from using the mess kit and bayonet after all. That will make things easier.  
By cursed ground you assume the fact that ground burnt under oil or gasoline stays barren far longer than a normal fire.  
"Still, I need to go see the wreck" you say, intently hoping that Anya won't stop you. Anya sits silent for a moment before answering.  
"Anya wait here then, Lum shout if need help and Anya will come save you. Bring blade." she reluctantly allows.  
She does not want you to have the rifle with you, she want you to come to her for protection you note. You're fine with that.  
"I'll be back soon" you promise and finish up your stew.  
"No releasing seed! Anya will know! Anya will smell!" she shouts after you as you take off into the forest.  
You feel your cheeks go red. Is that how she knows? Women can smell that or is it just Anya?  
You soon reach the crash site. It's little more than a black heap of twisted metal. You grab a large tick and pry away blackened metal around the area that you figure was the back of the engine. The burned aluminum beams and skin eventually give way for you and your long stick  
You find what you where looking for. The twisted and burnt remains of the pilot, charred black and half crushed by the rest of the aircraft crumpling and pinning him against the engine. Stiff upper lip you remind yourself as you scrape away charred clothing and flesh. You collect the dog tags, buckled and blackened but sufficiently protected under the thick flight jacket. Adding them to the others in the wallet, you now have three souls that you intend to return so that they may have the proper rituals.  
You also collect the other thing you came her for. A wing, torn loose by the impact of a tree is unburnt. You use the bayonet to hack loose a strip of aluminum skin, the thin and soft metal little match for the steel bayonet.  
Uttering a silent prayer for the pilot, you return to camp.  
You find Anya waiting for you as you return. She walks up to you grabs you by the collars of your jacket and bends down. She sniffs the nape of your neck and your chest. Passing inspection, you are released from her grip.  
"What was Lum looking for at dead thunderbird?" she asks you. You show her the dog tags.  
"Names of the dead. Must be returned to their homelands" you explain.  
"The dead have left, why disturb them with moving their names?" Anya asks incredulously.  
"I must, it's my duty" you explain looking up at her eyes filled with determination. Anya gives you a questioning look but does not press the issue further.  
She returns to the fireplace and seats herself in front of it and starts cutting herbs with her small flint blade. Pieces of plants slowly roast in the mess kit over the fire. Her pouches that's usually tied to her loincloth is lined up before her, you guess she began to restock her supply of medical herbs while you were gone.  
Having work to do yourself, you walk over to the waterline and selects a sedimentary rock with a flat surface. You drag it up on the grass. Searching the water you also find a small granite stone, small enough to fit in your hand. You fetch the bolt from the rifle and places it on the flat rock.  
Your work space is complete, time for the hard part. Placing the piece of aluminum skin from the aircraft on the flat rock, you begin to hammer the rough edges flat with the small granite stone. The bayonet had not been an ideal tool for cutting it from the wing. The tools at hand being far from ideal, it's time consuming work but after some time you have a flat piece of aluminum with jagged edges.  
Using the bayonet as a ruler you fold in the jagged edges and hammer flat. Soon you have a rectangular sheet of aluminum.  
The flat rock your anvil, the stone your hammer, you feel almost like a blacksmith. Stop me if you can dad, you think.  
You are distracted from further work as you see Anya rise from her work with cutting and mixing herbs.  
She walks over to the tent, unties her loincloth, unwraps her breasts and places her clothes in the tent opening.  
Her naked body distracts you from any further work. While you feel yourself slowly getting erect you also wonder what she is up to.  
Anya calmly walks over to the rocks by the water. She sights a round boulder almost three feet across and squats down by it. With a grunt she lifts it and heaves onto her right shoulder. Every muscle in her torso bulges, her abs look like large sett stones inlaid into her abdomen, the muscles in her arms looking considerably larger and stronger than those in your thighs.  
Anya wobbles a little, regains her balance and looks out over the water.  
The best you can describer her would be like as if Atlas was a woman and she stood before you, carrying the globe.  
You knew that Anya was strong but the feat you see before you looks unreal.  
With a mighty heave Anya throws the boulder into the water with a large splash. Droplets fall on your head some ten yards away. Anya steps into the water, rolls her rock a bit further out and seats herself on her makeshift stool, water up to her breasts.  
You stare at her, mouth wide open. Anya looks over at you.  
"Lum, wash Anya" she orders you with an imperative voice. You wordlessly get up and almost forget to strip before jumping into the water after her.  
Anya sitting with her back straight looking out over the water remains silent as you walk up behind her.  
You scoop up water with your hands and slowly pour over her head. Soon her normally wild hair is soaked and hangs straight down her back.  
It gives her a regal look and you feel like a lady's maid servicing her queen. You wash her hair and start on her back.  
You feel the muscles under her skin and you can almost feel the power radiating off them like heat. You rub your way down to her butt cheeks and suddenly your hands on her soft butt reminds you that it's a naked Anya you have your hands on. Your dick springs to life despite the cold water.  
"Now front" Anya demands.  
This is going to be torturous.  
You reach your arms around her and starts to work on her abdomen. You work yourself upwards and stop under her breasts. You feel yourself burning inside, your entire body screaming for you to go on but you remember your promise last night and you know how your mind and body will be aching for a release which you cannot have.  
"Up" Anya orders.  
You close your eyes and swallow. Better get this over with. You run your hands up and over her breasts, scoop some water over them, runs your hands over and around them a few times. You try not to notice the softness, the density, the nipples, hard in the cold, poking your palms.  
Your dick notices. You squirm and lean your head against Anyas back trying to bring the focus away from your burning loins. You start to move up towards Anyas shoulders.  
"More" she demands.  
"Breasts sweaty, wash more" she purrs, the cruel streak back in her voice. She enjoys this you realize.  
You cup her one breast in your hand, lifts it gently and rubs under, around it, up over and down between her breasts over and over. You cup the other breast and repeat the process. You start up towards her shoulder.  
"More" Anya hisses, her breathing heavy. In the end Anya has you washing, massaging and rubbing her breasts for five minutes before she lets you finish her upper body. She stands up, the water up to her tights.  
"Now legs" she says, and there is a hint of laughter in her voice, Anya enjoying your discomfort considerably.  
You squat down and wash her long legs each in turn. As you work your way up you can feel the heat radiating off her vulva when your hands work the uppermost parts of her inner thighs. You keep your eyes shut, to see her pussy now would be more than you could bear.  
Anyas breathing gets deeper.  
"Between legs" she demands, lust clear on her voice. You swallow hard, places your left hand on Anyas hip and reaches between her thighs with your right. Anyas body shudder as you place your fingers against her pussy. Anyas sticky nectar soak your fingers. Her vulva feels scalding hot against your skin and your dick threatens to explode. Even weak currents in the water sends tingling pleasure down your shaft.  
You rub your hand back and forth, the feeling of her pussy lips sliding over and between her fingers makes sparks shoot trough your mind.  
Getting her cleaner between the legs would be a fool's errand as she gets wetter by the minute.  
Eyes shut tight you grind your forehead against Anyas lower back, whimpering as frustration burns like fever in your body.  
Anya shudders and gasps as you rub her and you know that there is only one way to end this torture. You insert two fingers into her and rubs her weak spot over and over, your other hand reaching around and pinches her clit. Anya gives a little yelp and you feel her tighten around your fingers and a squirt of clear fluid shoots down her thigh.  
She pants heavily for a minute.  
"Okay, Anya clean now." she pants.  
Her mere body heat from standing near her feels intoxicating and you quickly retreat.  
As you reach the boulders at the edge of the water Anya catches you. She spins you around, bends you backward over a stone with her hand around your throat and leans heavily into you, breast pressed against you chest. She brings Her mouth close to your ear and runs a finger up your rock hard erection, feather light in her touch. Your body shudders, almost at an orgasm from that touch alone.  
"Anya can ease Lums pain, Lum just has to ask." she whispers and releases you. The feeling is almost too much and you lie on the rock feeling miserable. Anya climbs up on land over you and stands with her feet on each side of your head, giving you a clear look at what you desperately tried to avoid looking at. Standing with her legs slightly apart you see a hint of pink between her puffy lips.  
She looks down at you, a cruel smile on her lips.  
"Just ask" she smirks before moving on.  
Had this been back home you fear Anya would have been executed on the spot for her heinous crimes against the Geneva convention.  
In the end you have to spend over half an hour of hard swimming, back and forth in the cold water before feeling relaxed enough to get back on land.  
Anya lies on her belly, still naked and basking in the sun when you get up. She looks over at you as you climb up from the water, you breathing heavy. She doesn't even have to say anything, just a knowing smile.  
You return to your work and pound away with furious energy at the piece of metal.  
Anya, still devoted to tormenting you has positioned herself so that her feet points directly at you where you sit by your makeshift anvil. Her legs are spread slightly so that if you ever glance up you look straight at the subject of your desires, that infuriating hint of pink, contrasting so intoxicating against the dark bronze skin around it.  
Stiff upper lip you remind yourself, stiff upper lip.  
Like that the day continues, Anya demanding various services of you, all requiring you touch, look at or smell her body. Massages, readjusting her breast bindings or loincloth. Abstinence and stubbornness only not even an entire monastery could compete with keeps you to your promise to yourself. Between swimming and your promise to service Anya with whatever she asked, little time is spent on your project. During bedtime, Anya presses your head to her breast, swings her leg over your body and gently grinds herself against your hip. Your dick and balls actually physically hurts and your mind wants to die.

 

By the second and final day, there is clear frustration to Anyas teasing, her lack of success in pushing you to break you promise annoying her and a lust inside her that no massage can ease. It is clear that she starts to have second thoughts about the deal. By afternoon, she has abandoned her attempts and is prowling around the camp like a wolf around a sheep pen, stealing glances at you. By evening her eyes burn, muscles tense. The sun is one hour from setting and thus the deadline for your project or your immortal soul when you can finally gaze at the fruit of your labor.  
Having folded the aluminum piece twice over you have hammered it into a strip. With the point bayonet you have carved ANYA and LUM into the metal in crude lettering and by wrapping it around the round bolt from the rifle you folded and hammered the ends together.  
A ring.  
You tie a quick crucifix with two sticks and hang it on the trunk of a large tree. You drag your flat rock under it. An altar.  
Placing some flowers on the flat rock you feel that you are as read as you can be.  
You call Anya over. She stands before you, towering and eyes burning like a cat who see a cornered mouse.  
You close your eyes and breathe deeply. Let's do this.  
Taking Anyas hands in yours and face her before your makeshift altar by the tree.  
"We have gathered here today under God to witness the union of Anya and Lum" you begin ceremoniously.  
"What?" Anya says, a hint of confusion in her voice. You hush her and continue  
"Do you Lum take Anya as your lawful Wedded wife to love in good times or bad for as long as you live? Yes I do" you go on, skipping and making things up wildly since you always found wedding dreadfully boring affairs and never really listened to the sermons and vows.  
"What?" Anya says, now looking down at you with confusion clearly written across her face. You barrel on.  
"Anya, do you take Lum as your lawfully wedded husband to love in good times or bad for as long as you live?" you ask Anya.  
"Lum, what do-"  
"Do you want me Anya?" you interrupt her.  
"Yes?" She blurts out, the prowling beast now totally replace with Anya at a loss.  
"If anyone wish to object, they may do so now or may forever hold their silence!" you announce grandly. Only birdsong and the waterfall is heard in the distance.  
"I hereby declare Anya and Lum wife and husband untill death do you apart" you finish.  
"Lum, what is this all?" Anya ask now clearly irritated over her confusion.  
You take the ring from your pocket and slides it onto Anyas ring finger. It's a decent fit. It might be the crudest wedding ring for the crudest ceremony in the history of weddings but it's as good as it's going get on this world.  
Explaining the meaning of the ceremony to Anya would take time and you opt for extracting the part most relevant to Anya.  
"The ring means that I belong to Anya, body and soul. Oh I almost forgot." you say, reaching up and pulls Anyas head down. You give her a gentle kiss on the lips.  
Anya straightens herself and looks at the ring, turning it on her finger, eyes fixed.  
"Lum Anyas. Lum belong to Anya" she mumbles over and over to herself. While you doubt that this ceremony would hold water if brought before the old bailey, you also hope that Anya will forgive you for having more or less dragged her through a ceremony and commitments she might not understand. You actually feel bad for doing it but given the alternative that was just hours away, you feel that this was the lesser evil.  
You decide to press on with your set course. You hope that the ceremony stilled Anyas desire to 'make you hers, whole' long enough to have a proper wedding night with good food and sneaking away to the bedchamber, whispering sweet words to each other.  
"Anya, would yo-" is as far as you get before her stare stops you.  
The wolf is back like never before. Her eyes are almost shooting green sparks, her mouth parted in a wide grin and you feel shivers run up your spine. Despite how you longed for her body yesterday and most of today, you actually feel that you'd rather wait for Anya to calm down a bit.  
The way she looks at you makes you fear actual bodily harm should you end up under her.  
Anya reaches behind her and starts to work on the knot holding the leather bindings straps in place. You made that knot for her this morning and she's not familiar with it enough to undo it easily. You slowly start to back away, smiling nervously.  
You get almost a step backwards before Anya bodychecks you, not stopping her work on the knot, sending you flying to the ground. You barely get to catch your breath before Anya straddles you. Giving up on the knot Anya, bicep bulging, simply grabs hold of her leather binding and with a ripping noise tears it from her chest. Her breast fly free bouncing. Despite your nervousness, seeing those breast bounce above you makes you hard. You feel a slight pang of guilt that you'll consummate the marriage before the altar but the fire inside your body and the hunger in Anyas face keeps you from voicing your concerns. Anya grabs hold of your sleeves and pulls your jacket over your head, throwing it onto the ruins of her leather bindings. Having you pinned under her, Anya takes a moment to look at you, like one would admire a lavish meal before you consume it. Anyas chest rise and fall rapidly, breasts gently bobbing. She bends down over you and kisses you. You close your eyes, open your mouth and lets Anya take the lead. The taste and smell of Anya fills your mind as her tongue flicks over yours. You do your best to keep up with her but Anya with her big lungs soon has you out of air and you try to gasp and breathe trough your nose resulting in Anya having a chance to run wild in you mouth with her tongue.  
For what feels like an eternity Anya kisses you. Your lungs burn but the taste of her mouth is so intoxicating that you feel like it will sustain you just as good as air.   
She breaks the kiss and lets you catch your breath. You lie on the ground for a few panting moments before she attacks anew. She sucks your tongue into her mouth and bites down. You gasp with pain. With your tongue between her teeth she pulls you up to a sitting position, her bent over you. She puts one hand behind your head, releasing you and straightens herself. Her breasts fill your face and you feel a nipple pushing against your lips. You close your arms around her waist, open your mouth and gives her nipple a lick. Anya moans. The taste of Anya is raw and slightly salty. You suck the nipple into your mouth and flicks it over and over with your tongue. To your delight you feel it harden and push against your tongue as you press against it. You bite down gently and rub over the tip of her nipple, giving it a slight bite between each stroke with your tongue. Anya gasps and press your face harder into her breast. Sucking licking and biting you evoke moans and gasps from Anya and you feel yourself go rock hard and sticky in your pants. Pushing you away from you see her dark nipple now wet and glistening with your saliva. Anya cups her other breast in her hand and presses your lips against the nipple. You soon have it to hard and glistening. After a few moments you feel Anya shudder and she pulls you away, leaving a string of saliva between her nipple and your lips. She Pushes you back on the ground and pulls at the rope on her loincloth. It too snaps and she throws it aside. Now completely naked she begins to grind herself against the hardness in your pants. The rough fabric must feel uncomfortable as she gets of you and pulls at your pants.  
The belt on tight holds them on place. Anya pulls harder resulting in you sliding across the grass. You realize that Anya has never operated the belt clasp.  
Hunger burning in her eyes she grabs the belt and pulls upwards lifting your lower body.  
Despite your dick burning you enjoy seeing Anya struggle, revenge for the torment the previous day. Placing a knee against your pelvic bone and a hand against your lower stomach she grips your belt in a firm grip. You see muscles bulge and shift under the skin on her arms and back. Then she pulls.  
Your belt, thick kangaroo leather and a solid brass clasp, gifted to your father by Australians under his service during his time in Africa, inherited by you for your first mission. They hardly make belts like yours anymore, a masterwork, nearly indestructible.  
On top of you, over 500 pounds of thickly packed muscle, inhuman strength driven by a hunger a pack of lions could not match.  
Who would walk winning from this duel you could not guess because your spine is trapped between them.  
You feel you spine pop before Anya notices your howl and frantic slapping on her thigh.  
Despite being pulled impossibly tight and the clasp slightly deformed, you undo the belt in record time.  
As soon as Anya sees the belt come loose she grabs you by the trouser legs and shakes you out of them like you'd shake crumbs from a table cloth.  
Lying there in the grass, back bruised, Anya straddles you again. You feel her sopping pussy press down on your erection, heat and sparks of pleasure shooting up your body. Anya places her hands on your chest and begins to grind, her breasts swaying and her abs shifting with the movement.  
You though the handjobs Anya gave you where the peaks of pleasure you could achieve but feeling her swollen vulva part slightly and envelop you is on another level completely. You won't last long under Anya like this. Maybe Anya felt you twitching under her and she stops her grinding.  
"Now Anya makes Lum hers, like Inphas do. Inphas take what we want" Anya growls, eyes sparkling.  
She lifts her hips and guides your dick into her wet hole. You see a wolf grin at you and green eyes flash as Anya slams her hips down. You feel your hips creak. The hands on your chest clench leaving four red lines each. Anya twitches around your erection and you feel that her internal muscles are just as strong as the rest of her, she closes around your shaft impossibly tight. Waves of heat and pleasure rack your body and you shudder in unison with Anya. It feels like your dick is melting, becoming absorbed by Anya, that you truly become one of flesh. The silver bush between Anyas legs on top of you, her white pubes in contact and mixing with your darker ones contrasting with her dark skin against your light skin like Yin Yang burns into your mind. For a long moment you and Anya remain still and just feel the heat between your bodies.  
Anya shifts her legs slightly to a more comfortable position and begins to grind again. Moving back and forth and in circular movements, her clit rubbing against your crotch sends sparks up Anya causing her to twitch around your dick. Sticky sounds emanate from your crotches as Anyas love juice leaks and spreads between you. You feel that an orgasm is building within you again and your penis start to twitch.  
Anya readjusts her hips and grabs a steady hold of your arms. She bends over you, and looks you straight in the eyes, her green eyes filled with raw lust. She raises her hips as high as she can without letting you slide out and the slams down again with force.  
She begins to ride you with the speed and gentleness of a diesel pile driver, hammering you into the ground.  
Wet slapping noises fill the small clearing, along with your moans of both pain and pleasure under Anyas rough riding.  
You feel yourself approach climax and Anya slams down hard on you and keeps you inside her, as deep as you can reach. Intending to once again let you recede and then build you up again until you are a drooling mess like before, Anya remains motionless on top of you. Things does not go to plan however as you squirm and buck violently under her, so close to orgasm. Your squirming body, grinding against her clit causes Anya to gasp and contract around you so forcefully that it tips you over the edge.  
Your penis, twitching violently and shooting thick spurts of hot cum into her and the feeling of being cummed inside causes Anya to squeeze you again and again, milking you dry.  
Anya straightens herself on top of you and crosses her arms in front of her chest with a disappointed look on her face.  
"No fun, Anya wanted to play with Lum until eyes turn white and tongue hangs out." she complains, you still moaning and twitching inside her.  
She climbs off you and crawls on her hands and knees to the pile of discarded clothes.  
"Anya got herb for Lum, makes Lum hard again" Anya mumbles to herself as she picks trough the pile for the right pouch.  
Feeling totally spent you look over at Anya, her on all fours, a big bubble butt faces towards you. Nestled between her butt cheeks you see her thick pussy lips and your white creamy cum running between them forming a trickle down her thigh. That sight alone, your white cum on her dark skin makes you rock solid and fills you with energy, far better than any herb could ever do. In a spark of suicidal boldness you reach over and slap her butt.  
Anya jumps slightly with a small yelp and then freezes. She slowly looks over her shoulder at you, eyes wide open in a look that would have cost the UK the war if looks could kill.  
She slowly crawls around like a tiger, back on top of you. The sight of her swaying breasts hanging under her as she crawls makes the fire inside you burn like the sun. Pinning you to the ground by your shoulders Anya bends over you, eyes wild.  
You know punishment is due and you love it.

You look at the stars, lying on your back on top of Anya, her arms around you. Anyas chest rise and fall slowly under you, her breathing calm. In the end she got her wish, she had your gasping and begging for mercy under her, her slave and plaything. You feel like you gave a good fight but every man breaks eventually they say. You hope Anya keeps breaking you for the rest of your life. Your body feels like you felt when you where laying on the on beach following the crash. Back aching, ribs bruised, your skin scored by Anyas fingernails and you fear that you have a slightly fractured pelvis. It's a good pain however and with your head resting between Anyas breasts, now ex virgin you feel better than you have done in recent memory.  
The unknown stars and the strange moon above you shines and you study the strange sky while enjoying Anyas warmth against your back. In the cool night wind chills you but you feel that in Anyas arms you could take on a snowstorm naked. You close your eyes and falls asleep, all your energy consumed by Anya.  
You wake the following morning in the grass with the sun burning your skin. You groan as every joint in your body protests the movements as you sit up. You see Anya sitting by the pile of clothes, frowning as she works on the ruins of her clothing. Maybe she also wish she would have calmed down slightly before jumping you yesterday. You crawl up behind her and gives her a hug and a kiss on her cheek. Her face brightens considerably.  
"Good morning" you say as you yawn.  
"Suns blessing on you" she answers. You extract your boxers from the pile of clothes and look at Anyas work. She has replaced rope of the loincloth with braided hemp string but the tatters of her leather bindings will take considerably more work.  
Using the bayonet as a crude awl she holes and stitches the torn leather with hemp string slowly. Not having much to do yourself, you fetch two packets of dried meat and place one beside Anya. She smiles at you and begins to eat her breakfast while continuing her work.  
Taking up position behind her you begin to smoothen and comb her silver hair with your fingers. It's silken soft and you hate to see it so disheveled, even if it was from last nights lovemaking.  
"So what's the plan now" you ask.  
"We travel to city. Anya must report about Lums world and men making tools of war. Lum must tell queen." Anya answers.  
Queen? You feel it's time to get some intelligence on the Inphan society.  
"Tell me about Inpha" you ask of Anya as you continue to work on her hair.  
"Mighty queen Nataini leads Inpha. Queen strong warrior, leads Inpha to glory against enemies" anya explains, admiration for the queen clear on her voice.  
"You go to war often?" you ask.  
"Inpha go to war against villages of plain herders and lizards of jungle. Inphas always win and villages pay tribute to queen. Lizards always hide deep in jungle until they strong to fight again. They always lose" Anya explains, triumph in her voice.  
So a warrior culture of walking titans in a medieval at best world . Yeah, you could see them win a lot. Lizards? Large pest animals that compete for game in the forest maybe. That matters little, what about the downed planes and the sisters who collect them?  
"What about the high sisters?"  
"High sisters lead workers of skin and bone. They pray and sacrifice to thunder god so that he may send thunderbirds to die in our lands. Bone from bird make superior weapon, sisters bless and workers collect. Sisters very powerful" Anya says, reproach on her voice.  
Not a fan of the sisters? Might be a problem but maybe you could use your position as an officer of the commonwealth to influence the queen or leaders of the sisters with promise of steel products or trade agreements should they manage to help you back home?  
It's a good plan you decide, promise of trade and manufactured goods has always helped missionaries and explorers in the past.  
"How far away to the city? you ask.  
"For Anya one day and one night of running. For Lum? Maybe three days." Anya says. While it stings your pride, you also know it's true and it might even be a generous estimate.  
Oh well, marching you have done before and as long as it's Anyas butt leading you, you don't mind.  
Anya having finished her work on the wrappings and loincloth stands up. Anyas naked butt and back, profiled from below makes you feel an urge to give her butt a smack and receive another correctional session but you know that it would delay you another day at least and your body is still recovering from last night. Instead you dress up and help Anya pack camp.  
Folding the tent, packing up drying meat and loading the backpack you soon are ready to march out.  
Anya takes the backpack, slings the rifle over her shoulder and grabs her spear. All you carry is your bandolier and the bayonet.  
While you slightly feel like a child by having Anya carrying everything you know that she might as well carry you along with the rest and not be slowed down to a considerable degree.  
After a final check of the ground you set out for the city. You are eager to see more of the new world and the explorer is back in you. You cannot wait until you see the city. Walking up beside Anya as you make your way in the forest you look up at her face and are struck by her beauty. A thought strikes you. There cannot exist a place in this world or back home where Anya is not regarded as close to the apex of what a man wish for, generous buxom, wide hips, round butt and the face of dreams. How will the men of the city react when they see a stranger with one of the most attractive women in the city? Not well you fear and if the men are anywhere close to the size of Anya, you fear what might happen should they decide to take it up with you, marquess of Queensberry rules. You decide to broach the subject carefully.  
"Sooo, Anya, is there any man in the city who would take offense by seeing me with you? you ask carefully. Anya looks down at you and laughs.  
"A man for Anya in city? Anya could dream but only young sister. Not any man for Anya untill age or war claims her. Untill Anya found Lum!" she says and snatches you up in a big hug, spins you around and sets you down without breaking step. She smiles widely at you as you stumble to regain your balance. Slightly disoriented you ponder what she said. How does courtship and marriage even work in the Inpha society?  
"Why won't men notice you in the city?" you ask.  
"All men born property of queen. Highest dream of Inpha to gain glory in battle or through achievement so that queen note you and grant you man. Elder sisters in family get better job or front position in war. Mostly eldest sister who gets man and continue family. Only hope for Anya was capture a man and make him mine in war but villages pay men as tribute to queen. No war with village for long time. Lizards make no men." Anya explains with a sullen look.  
"How many older sisters do you have? you ask.  
"six and eldest sister leader of war section. She sure to get man. Eldest sister has won great glory. Anya just hunter, will always be hunter." Anya says, voice edged with bitterness and envy. Sister number seven. How lucky of you. No wonder it was her who stumbled upon you.  
"But Anya has Lum" she says voice now full of triumph. She looks at you with a devious smile. Things start to make more sense but you have to ask.  
"How many men are born for every woman?  
"Mother has born two men and she has nine daughters. Mother a strong warrior who took man on battlefield and we a family with much honor" Anya proclaims with much pride in her voice.  
You feel trouble loom up before you like a sandstorm in the distance but you also feel some pride build in your chest. If men are that rare and bestowed only on the worthy by the royalty then you must be quite the showpiece. One could arguably claim that Anya bested you in battle and thus has gained the right to you.  
The competitiveness between sisters can be fierce in normal families but here it must be on another level completely. Anya stumbled on one of the highest status symbols in their society and the keys to a family of her own when she found you. That's why she kept you hidden by the large waterfall until you was 'made hers, whole'. Given what was at stake for her, you feel great respect and thankfulness towards Anya that she waited so long for you to get yourself ready for her. Now you belong to each other, both under law of her and your world. Is that enough to keep you safe however? You ask her as much.  
"No greater dishonor than to steal or use owned man. One must kill anyone who would even try." Anya says, eyes burning fierce just thinking about the crime.  
"And Lum owned by Anya" she happily hums to herself while spinning the crude ring on her finger.  
"Anya always dreamed of having man." Anya says looking up into the sky trough the canopy.  
"When Anya was in warriors training, all we warrior pups talk about during night is how we capture men, how we tame men and how to make yours. Anyas dream fell from the sky" she continues and you see the wolf in her flash in eyes as she looks at you. Well, given the talks in the barracks and the stories shared by the less pious cadets, it's clear that some things are constant no matter which world you are on.  
As you march on the day gets hotter. You remove your jacket but the heat and the hard march makes you sweat profusely and drink the canteen empty. Anya however doesn't seem to notice the heat.  
By the time Anya declares it's time to break for you are drenched with sweat and even Anya seems to be uncomfortable in the heat.  
You stop by a small river and you immediately strip down and throw yourself in. You swim against the stream, enjoying the cool water around you. A splash to your right makes you look over and see Anya, entering the water, naked. Water up to her tights she s scoops up water and pours it over her face, letting it run down her body, between her breasts and down into her small silver bush, dripping with water. The heat rises to your cheeks so hot that the water around you almost steams. She quickly washes herself and sits down on a rock by the waterline, water up to her knees. The silvery bush and her wet breasts makes a devil whisper in your ear and you listen. You swim over to her and places your arms and chin in her lap, kicking gently with your leg to keep your body afloat.  
"Anya, did you and the other warrior pups ever discuss using your mouth to, uh, tame a man?" you ask, trying to keep your voice level.  
"Only dogs or men do that." she scoffs. Dogs and men? You feel insulted being compared to a dog and a mischievous feeling rises within you.  
Leading by doing is a motto taught by the academy. You'll show Anya what her dog can do. Nights of lewd discussions with other cadets during evenings flash in your mind. You know the theory and you know Anyas weakness. You form a plan of battle.  
"Oh yeah? Maybe the dogs and men know something you women don't" you say with an impish grin. Anya gives you a strange look.  
You gently push her muscular thighs apart and begin to kiss your way upward. Glancing upwards you see Anya giving you a disapproving look but she doesn't stop you. Working yourself up her thigh you give a light peck at the edge where her thigh meets the pubic mound. You place your lips against her coarse pubes and let your hot breath wash against the sensitive skin underneath. Sucking in air trough your nose you feel the strong smell of sweat, salt and Anya intoxicating your mind. Moving your lips lower you breaths out again. You feel any shudder. You ever so lightly let the tip of your tongue play where the upper part of her cleft of venus begins and slowly put more pressure on that area.  
Anya stifles a moan and lifts her feet out of the water and place them in level with your shoulder. She leans further back and angles her hips up towards you. It's the first time you see her pussy up close, every minute detail before your eyes. Her large pussy lips the same bronze color as the rest of her body, the folds between them gradually shifting towards pink deeper inside, topping in a hood covering a dark pink nub.  
You run the tip of your tongue over a puffy labia and Anya moans quietly. Running up, Anya shudders as you ever so slightly passes over her clit and moans slightly as you run the tip of your tongue down the other side. You place your lips barely touching her vulva and let your breath play over it. Teasing up and down with the lightest touch and your breath you have Anya shivering until a large hand grabs the back of your head and mashes your face into her pussy. Signal clear you begin to lick in earnest, up over her hard clit, down and pushing your tongue as far inside her as you can reach and sucks her nectar into your mouth. The taste of her is salty and musky and you lap at her steady flow, trying not to spill a drop. Anya moans and squirms and she pulls her knees further up while she takes her hand from your head and spreads her pussy wider for you.  
Attacking her clit over and over you suck it into your mouth and let your tongue run over and trace around it. You give it a careful nibble and Anya gasps loudly.  
Hard determined licks from her wet entrance up to her clit makes Anya tense up her abdomen and almost whimper in pleasure.  
Licking faster Anyas breathing goes faster and ragged and you redouble your efforts. You hear Anya draw and hold her breath and while you move your mouth down to her entrance and push your tongue you reach up and gently pinch and rub her clit between your fingers. With a loud moan Anya arcs back and spurt of clear liquid shoots into your face. It gets in your eyes and it stings a little forcing you to close your eyes and wash them under the water.  
Having cleared your eyes you look up and see Anya flat on her back chest heaving.  
She looks at you over her heaving breasts, green fire in her eyes.  
"Again" she demands.  
You feel the impish grin return to your face and you push out into the small river again.  
"Shop is closed, please come back again tomorrow" you say with a wicked smile, almost laughing.  
You barely manage to take a few strokes backwards before Anya is back on her feet and takes a massive swan dive towards you. With a splash she disappears under the water and before you get very far she hits you like a torpedo, never having breached the surface. The river not being very deep, Anya hoists you over her shoulder and in large strides she carries you back to land. Dumping you on the ground she squats down over your head. She places her toes under your shoulders and sits down on your face, pussy pushing against your lips and your nose buried in her pubes. There is only a small gap of air between Anyas big thighs trough which you look up. Anya looks down and the sight of her as she looks down at you between her breasts makes her look massive.   
"Anya said again" she growls and shifts her hips forward blocking your nostrils with her puffy pubis mound.  
Choking under her you open your mouth to breathe but there is little air to be found as her pussy fills your mouth. You begins to lick and suck furiously, knowing the only way to get her off you is to give her what she wants.  
Anya moans loudly and starts to grind against your face. Her love juice spreads over your face and gets in your nostrils and mouth. You choke a little. Anyas meaty pussy slides back and forth over your mouth and nose making any precision work or feeling her small trembling impossible. You simply do your best with your tongue and lets Anya set the pace. You try to reach over her thighs with your hands and attack her clit to finish her faster but she catches your arms and pins them to the ground. Almost blacking out as the only air you get is piecemeal as Anya bucks and grinds her hips on your face, you swear that you will follow Anyas orders to the letter from hereon out when she says Again.  
Anya violently rides your face for over ten minutes before she finally coming to a shaking orgasm on top of you. Liquid shoots into your mouth and you choke and cough. For a few moments she just sits trembling on your face before getting off. As Anya lifts her hips from your face thick strings of her juice trail from your mouth and nose to her pussy.  
Sitting beside you, you see her looking at you like she's considering how to further punish you for your insolence.  
You just lay there, face sticky and gasping for air, no fight left in you. Your coughing and gasping body must have convinced Anya that you have received punishment enough and she lifts you into her arms and licks your face clean.  
"Anya felt really good. Lum was right, men and dogs might know something Anya didn't" she purrs into your ears.  
Between the exertion of the march, the swimming and Anyas brutal treatment you wrap you arms around Anya and fall asleep resting against her chest.  
The both of you wake up later in the day and quickly dress up, hurrying to make up for lost time spent sleeping in each others arms.  
With her long legs and a fast walking pace you need to jog to keep up Anya as she hurries along. Fortunately for you as you are all but spent running after Anya, the sun soon disappears behind the horizon and it goes dark. Instead of erecting the tent Anya throws a bunch of fern and palm leaves under a low, wide palm tree and crawls in under it with the greatcoat.  
It's certainly not Buckingham Palace but with Anya in there, there is no other place you rather be.  
Anya and you doesn't even bother with undressing and just fall asleep hugging each other under the greatcoat.

You are shaken awake by Anya the following morning and you notice it's barely even sunrise.  
"Really? Do we really need to be up so early?" you groan.  
"Yes. Anya wants to show Lum something. Slight detour. Long walk still." she says and thrusts dried meat into your hands. It's a good thing you have plenty of dried meat from the buck you shot as it really speeds you journey not having to hunt and being able to eat while marching.  
You slap your cheeks and gets moving following Anya. You walk silently chewing your dried meat breakfast. Feeling that you start to lose track of time you've spent in the jungle due to all the new impressions you also wonder about the Inphan calendar and time keeping. How old is Anya? Despite it's rude to ask a lady about age you feel that you have to know.  
"Anya, how old are you? you ask, hoping that it's not as rude her as you would have been back home.  
"Anya twenty-seven roths and four moons." she answers. That didn't help much. Anya realizes this to and continues.  
"twenty-five days and nights to a moon, ten moons to a roth" she elaborates. You do some quick math in your head. About nineteen years old if the day is approximately the same length as home.  
This titan of a woman is slightly younger than you. You could not have guessed that by looking at the both of you side by side. Anya, almost eight feet tall and wide hips, you five foot ten, babyface with no beard and almost skinny.  
"And for how long have you been a hunter?" you ask.  
"Anya thinks about four or five roths. Not long. Been a hunter since day of full warrior."  
You ponder this for a while. A young woman like Anya, born into lower a class under her sisters, stumbling onto the treasure that is you and claims it for herself. If her society is anything like yours, that wont go over well with the upper classes. Anyas belief that you will be safe belonging to her might youthful idealism. You really hope that you can convince the queen or high sisters to help you with a trade deal in exchange for protection. Even if the crown of England won't honor a deal you brokered by you, you are fairly certain the Lambton estates can provide a suitable deal.  
You walk along silently for a while thinking of whatever produces your family could provide. Grains from the fields or maybe some of the metals from the Australian mines your father owns shares in. Probably you would have to end up buying whatever they demand and hope they don't demand men.  
In return, gold if they have maybe? spices and herbs? Anya disturbs your thoughts.  
"Lum, tell Anya something of your world. Anya wish to know about the world where people can make large thunderbirds by hand." she asks.  
You decide to tell her about the London underground, likening it to metal worms burrowing trough an apple. You tell her about the metropolitan line, the subway stations and which cafes that makes the best coffee and toast.  
Anya asks about many things in your stories, derailing you into explaining other phenomenons resulting in more questions and derailment. You are in the middle of explaining the procedure of making light bulbs when Anya holds out her arm across your chest halting you.  
She points out something in a clearing about a hundred yards ahead.  
A plane. Unburnt. Wings torn and fuselage crumpled but unburnt. Your heart starts to race. Anya looks at the plane, fear in her eyes. Even if she does not believe the Inpha religious dogma of planes as living things she still fears either them or the response of the high sisters should she approach them.  
"Anya saw this thunderbird land over two roths ago. It still has not died with fire and fury." she says, voice trembling.  
"If it hasn't caught fire on crashing it wont do so now or in the future. It's safe." you say voice calm.  
You start forwards but Anya grabs your shoulder. You look up in her eyes and see fear. You nod and continue. Anya follows close behind gripping spear in both hands close to her chest. As you approach you see it's a Swordfish floatplane, the insignia of the Royal Navy on its tail. The floats has been torn of, the double wings ripped and bent with struts pointing in odd angles. Anya takes up position at the edge of the clearing, spear at the ready. You approach carefully, Anyas fear rubbing off on you. As you approach the open cockpit you see that this pilot not survive the impact either. The navigator/gunner position is empty however. The pilot, hardly more than a skeleton, picked clean by birds and insects and his flight suit hangs loose in tatters around his bones. You collect his ID tags. Four souls in your wallet now. Looking down into the cockpit you see something else.  
Around his hip hangs a revolver in a holster. Pulling it out you see it's rusty but it swings open fine and the hammer and trigger works. Extracting a bullet you look down the barrel, rusty but still serviceable. You know this type of gun. A Webley Mk VI, the same as your service pistol, lost with your briefcase in the crash. Six bullets. As much as you trust Anya and have come to enjoy her heavy handed lovemaking, you don't trust the Inphas and especially not the high sisters given Anyas apprehension towards them. If she doesn't like them, risk are that they don't like her and by extension, you. You put the revolver in your belt and wave Anya over. She approaches half crouched, spear at the ready, muscles tense, stopping a few yards away. Calmly you explain the various parts in what fashion you can, propeller connected to engine, flight and control surfaces and control stick. Her fear slowly melting away, she walks up to you and stands beside you as you explain.  
"And this unlucky fellow flew this thing" you say, gesturing towards the pilot.  
"Why she died?" Anya asks prodding the dead man with her spear.  
"He. He probably hit his head on the windscreen on impact or something. Crashing a plane is usually bad for your health. There might have been a man behind him who survived" you say gesturing towards the empty seat.  
"England and German makes thunderbirds fly but put men to ride?" Anya asks incredulously. You decide not to broach the subject of status between men and women in your world at this time.  
"Yeah" you say flatly.  
Having everything you need you step away from the wreck. Anya, still suspicious grabs your hand and pulls you on the way.  
As you walk you wonder why Anya did not report the downed plane and ask her about it.  
"Anya want nothing to do with high sisters. Seeing a living thunderbird on ground with no fire means questions from high sisters. Much glory to sisters and Anya might disappear. Anya does not want to help the high sisters, Anya loyal to queen." she explains, her voice hard.  
To you it sounds like the age old rift between church and state of old, one with political power and one with religious. In addition, this power struggle seems to have the added element of one side controlling the means of metal working and the other the means of reproduction.  
That's if it's a power struggle, Anya might just be cheerleading for her great idol, the queen while there is little dispute between the church and state.  
You'll find out soon enough you hope. You decide to continue explaining your world to Anya, trying your hardest to explain electricity.  
Times fly by as you and Anya talks and laughs about the various strange contraptions and installations of your homeworld.  
By the sunset, Anya being brighter than she has any right to be, has grasped the concept if not the theory behind electricity as a means to move energy and is probably the foremost expert behind you on this world on trains which fascinate her greatly. Having halted for the day, Anya starts cutting up the last of the dried meat while you start a fire. Anya collects various roots and leaves around her and starts to cook her wondrous stew while you get working on the tent. Getting it up you seat yourself by the fire.  
Anya hands you a pot and you dig in happily.  
"What will we eat tomorrow? Need to hunt? you ask between mouthfuls of stew.  
"Tomorrow we reach hunting outpost and Anyas boss. From there, short walk to city"  
"You have a boss? Will she be happy to see you since you've been lost so long?  
"No. Anya was supposed to bring in catch the day Anya first saw Lum. Last day to meet quota. Then Anya met Lum" Anya says smirking.  
If her boss is anything like your father when his employees come in late or miss a deadline, Anya will have a really bad day tomorrow.  
Anya noting the worry in your face laughs.  
"Lum don't worry, Anya has plan." she says laughing. You sure hope so.  
Having finished your meal you strip down and ready for bed. You turn your back to Anya and sneaks your revolver into the pocket of your jacket. Even if Anya doesn't know what it is you feel safer having some means of self defense not relying entirely on Anya watching over you.  
"Lum." you hear Anya call behind you.  
"Yes?" you answer and turn around.  
The wolf is staring at you.  
"Please Anya, it's late and I'm tired" you start, not really feeling up for the task after the long march. Making love to Anya is something best done after a good nights sleep and a day of preparation eating fried eggs, pasta, sausages and other foodstuff rich in energy and protein.  
Not listening, Anya grabs you by the shoulders, hooks a leg behind your knees and pushes you to the ground. She bends down, strips you of your underwear and tosses it to the pile of clothes. You move to get up but a foot on your chest pushes you back down. Slowly walking around you, Anya strips down naked too. You know it's fruitless to move so you lie there taking in the sight of the firelight playing over Anyas skin, turning her silvery hair and pubes yellow and orange.  
You have no choice but to go hard. Anya stops by your feet and gets down on her all fours. Like a reptile and with her breasts gliding over your skin she begins crawling up your legs. The feeling of her soft breasts dragging over your penis could just about make you orgasm right then and there. As she continues up, her breasts rubbing against your body and her the soft skin over her hard abs on your dick makes you leak precum as Anya presses her body into yours. Her face in leve with yours she whispers softly to you.  
"Lum taught Anya valuable lesson about mouth yesterday. Anya want to try out here where no one may know of Anya and Lum playing games of dogs", her voice like silk. She proceeds to crawl over you, her breasts sliding over your face, her abs and finally the coarse hair between her legs as she drags it over your skin.  
Crawling around she moves and lays on her side beside you facing opposite direction from you. Resting her head in her hand, upper arm over your thighs she pins your leg to the ground. You move slightly but a look from Anya makes you freeze. She grips your shaft and begins to stroke gently. Sparks of pleasure darts up you.  
"Lum must not move, Anya must investigate how to use mouth to tame man" she purrs. She bends over and kisses you lightly, just over the frenulum. You can not help twitching slightly, those soft warm lips on your most sensitive part. Anya grins at your reaction and runs the tip of her tongue over your fleshy head, licking up a drop of precum while her hand gently strokes your shaft. You squirm and Anya grips you painfully hard.  
"No moving" she hisses and you freeze all your movement.  
Anya lightens her grip and runs her warm wet tongue up your shaft, painfully slow. You shudder involuntarily. Anya grins even wider and nips the skin on the side of your dick with her teeth. You yelp and twitch. Anyas smile is as wide and threatening as a growling wolf.  
Again and again her slow tongue wanders up and down your shaft and despite your best efforts you stifle your moans, a groan escapes your lips.  
Anya places a long wet kiss on the top of your penis, her tongue gently rubbing your very tip and your vision flashes. You moan and do your best not to move but your body is quivering. Slowly Anya sinks her head, enveloping your erection with her soft lips. Her tongue circles and plays over your tip and shaft as she takes you further into her mouth. Giving up your attempts to not moaning, you gasp and groan as Anya sinks further down your shaft while her fingers rub and squeeze around your base.  
Her tongue flat against the underside of your shaft, she slowly lifts her head, sucking hard. You gasp loudly as your dick slips free of her lips with a slight sucking sound. Still smiling at your reactions Anya lets her tongue play over your frenulum, around and over the head of your dick and at times letting her lips wander down and up the length of your shaft. Your heart pounds and burns, you clench your fists and legs. Anya continues to tease you and once again takes your dick in her mouth, even further down.  
You moan loudly and lose your eyes tight, the warmth of her mouth, her slick tongue and Slowly bobbing her head up and down and using her fingers to squeeze your base she slowly coax you to a climax. Anya does not stop to tease you but moves her tongue faster over the head of your dick until you explode in her mouth. She keeps her lips tight around your dick and uses her fingers and tongue to milk you. Swallowing down your cum she smiles a wicked smile at you.  
"Good Lum. Now Anyas mouth knows the feel of Lum teased to finish. Now Anya can begin to play." she purrs and swings a leg over your head. Pinning your arms under her legs, Anya lowers her dripping wet pussy to your mouth, your face buried in her butt. Despite the difference in length, Anya flexible as a cat has no trouble getting her mouth to work teasing your flaccid dick. She takes your limp dick in her mouth and between her sucking lips and warm tongue you soon go hard again.  
She kisses and licks your tip over and over and you moan the best you can, her pussy in your mouth. She takes you whole in her mouth, almost to the base and you imagine you feel the tightness of her throat around your tip. Your mind reels under the feeling and you feel yourself building to another climax. Anya immediately ease up and lets her fingers keep you on the edge.  
"No release until Lum finishes Anya first" Anya say, a wicked edge to her voice. She the returns to using her tongue running up and down your shaft to tease you to the teetering edge of orgasm. Your mind blanking and your vision flashing in agonized pleasure, you lick away wildly at Anyas pussy all finesse and technique forced out of your mind by the feeling of Anyas tongue on your cock. You moan and squirm to no use under Anya and in your half mindless state you do everything and anything you flashing trough your mind to get Anya to orgasm and ease your suffering. You lick and suck, gently nibble and rub her clit, anything.  
Time looses meaning as the only thing in your head is Anyas soft lips around your shaft keeping you a hair's breadth from exploding. You don't know how long it took or what you did but suddenly Anya shudders violently on top of you and a warm spurt of liquid splash into your mouth. At the same time, Anya sinks her lips down your shaft, sucks hard and with a final flick of her tongue she pushes you into a mind blanking orgasm. You buck your hips and twitch violently in Anyas mouth and you feel the muscles in deep inside her pussy contract and quiver as she is pressed hard against your face.  
After a time Anya rolls off you and you look at Anya with dazed eyes. A dribble of cum runs down the corner of her mouth and she pants hard. She licks the dribble with a flick of her tongue and the wolfish grin returns to her face.  
"Again" she says, breathing heavily.  
Knowing full well what might await if you resist, you can only whimper as Anya climbs back on top of you, pressing her pussy into your mouth again.

The following morning you wake up, jaw hurting, body aching, groin sore and balls throbbing. Anya lies on her belly snoring loudly.  
You can't clearly remember when you ended up in the tent but you have vague recollections about Anya pulling you inside to continue her assault on you while you desperately clawed to get free. Anyas strong legs all but snapping your spine as she pulled you into her with a strong leg lock as she cummed on your dick will have your back hurting for days. You feel as if a rib has snapped as her arms gave you the same treatment hugging you so tight that you nearly suffocated between her breasts.  
You groan and shake Anya awake. As she stirs you crawl out dress up and wonder about the bite marks on your thighs and chest. When did those happen? Anya crawls out of the tent, stretches and yawns. The sight of her breasts and silver pubes as she stretches makes your groin and balls throb harder. You look away as you don't need that right now. Anya dresses up and packs your gear and tent, glowing with content happiness. Almost skipping along as you walk beside her lightens your mood considerably, her happiness infectious.  
"Slept well?" you ask.  
"Anya almost slept like the queen herself" Anya chirps and jumps in front of you. Lifting you up under your arms she kisses you and gives you a hung that almost hurts your ribs.  
"Anya luckiest Inpha in world" she proclaims and sets you down.  
Your mood considerably lifted, your pains ease up and the walking feels less monotonous. After a while you stop by a small lake to drink.  
You know this lake you realize. Over the lake in the sand banks there is a deep furrow, scorched sand and a burnt tree. No wreck.  
"The plane I flew in on was over there. Someone has moved the wreck" you say pointing at the burnt spot.  
"Lum landed so close?" Anya says, worry clearly written over her face. She looks down at you again and her warm smile return to her face.  
"Close to what?" you ask.  
"Lum will see" says Anya and she bends down, scoops up water and washes your face. She opens your jacket down to your bellybutton, straightens it and combs your hair flat with water and her fingers. The way she fusses over you makes you feel like a child with his mother preparing you for school. Feeling finished Anya sets off along the waterline. You soon realizes what Anya meant with 'So close'. Had you decided to walk the other way after your crash, your situation would have been radically different by now, for better or more likely worse you fear.  
Just half a mile in the other direction you decided on when you set out, following the cliff east you come upon a square dirt yard, twenty feet across. In the middle there is a large mud and straw hut with a stone base. Surrounding it are dozens of tanning racks with animal hides stretched over them. Rows of deer and boars hang gutted on a scaffold. Anyas hunting camp.  
Anya gives you the backpack, the rifle and tells you to wait in the bushes until she calls for you whereupon you will enter and present yourself.  
She heads out and takes her position in the middle of the yard.  
"Anya back!" she shouts. A woman even larger and wider than Anya appears in the doorway. The faces of two other women peer out behind her.  
This large beast of a woman looks older than Anya, jaw wide, forehead wrinkled. Her massive muscled arms looks like uprooted trees, almost as wide as you are over the waist. Her red hair is done up in a large mohawk trailing a long tail down her back. A black line is tattooed from under her nose, down over her lips onto her square chin. Seeing a woman that makes Anya look small scares you and you huddle in your bush.  
"Anya!" you hear the large woman shout, voice deep. This must be Anyas boss you realize. The women peering out trough the door are mostly obscured but you see they have long white hair like Anya. The large woman begins to shout at Anya voice like a thunderstorm.  
As the language you and Anya has communicated through has been an amalgam of Inphan and English you don't get all the words but you can tell as much as that Anya is getting chewed out properly. Well, you would probably be pretty cross too if one of your subordinates disappeared for over a week and then turned up just like that. Anya takes it calmly, standing with her hands behind her back.  
You hear an angry question directed at Anya. Anya calls your name and with slight trembling in your leg you take up station beside Anya.  
"Second lieutenant Lambton, twenty-second signals regiment" you bark out trying not to cover in front of this hulking behemoth of a woman.  
She just looks between you with your open jacket and Anya who looks unbelievably smug.  
You flinch as the large woman grabs you by the front of the jacket with a massive hand and effortlessly lifts you to her face. She sniffs your chest and neck and lets you fall back to the ground with a crash. With a knife you could cut the hate in the look the large woman gives Anya. Anya on her part looks if possible even more smug.  
"Anya. To city. Now" you hear the massive woman order, each word like cracking boulders. The women in the hut emerges to look at you but a sharp order from the massive woman sends them scurrying back inside. With no further orders, the hulking beast lumbers after them.  
Anya, still looking smug picks you up off the ground and dusts you off. She grabs a handful of dried meat of a rack and hands half of it to you  
"Now we go to city." she chirps and sets off along a dirt path trailing into the forest.  
You catch up with her, still confused at what you just witnessed.  
"I don't think your boss was very happy" you say with a worried voice. If things continue that way, your investigation will turn out very hard.  
"Anya does not care. Anya has Lum. Anya of the city now" she answers in a haughty voice.  
You feel the sandstorm of trouble you felt before draw awfully close. You eat your dried meat with a growing feeling of fear in your gut.  
Following the dirt path north you soon end up on a small staircase hewn into the rock face. Climbing it you end up on a larger dirt path which eventually connects to a road set in stone. The road in surprisingly good condition and made with great skill keep your attention until a large stone wall looms up before you over twenty feet high.  
The stones in the wall looks cut by hand in various shapes but fit together so snugly that you could barely fit a sheet of paper between them. A large wooden door stands before blocking you from entering whatever lies behind this impressive wall. Anya calls out what you believe to be a password of some kind.  
"Welcome to city of Inpha" Anya says smiling.  
Abandon all hope, ye who enter here flash trough your mind.  
The doors swing open.

End Ch.3

Thanks Seafoam, I totally borrowed the concept of the belt struggle from you.


	4. Chapter 4

You are sitting in the passenger seat of a seat of a Rolls Royce Phantom. It's your fathers car. Closing your eyes you pretend that the engine in front of you is not a Rolls Royce I6 but a Rolls Royce Merlin engine and that you are sitting in a Spitfire, blasting Germans from the skies of London.  
You are on your way to Sandhurst. How your father knew that you where about to enlist with the Royal Artillery in order to man the flak batteries you will never know. You had been in the middle of physical examination in your underwear with a nurse taking your blood pressure when your father had stormed through the door to the clinic in the recruitment office.  
Brandishing his cane like a sword he had chased the nurse away from you while the lieutenant just sat behind his desk in the front office, unwilling or unable to confront old major Lambton. Your father had dragged you by the scruff of your neck to the changing cubicle and watched over you while you dressed up, shame and embarrassment burning in your face.  
The other applicants of various ages, some sitting in the waiting room some in the middle of filling out papers or physical examination stared at you wide eyed along with the nurses and the other personnel at the office. All work and writing had ceased while your father dragged you out of there, still screaming about what and whatnot befits a Lambton. The lieutenant gave you a 'sorry kid' look as the door to the office slammed shut in front of your face.  
The very same day you where on the train to Westbury, to the Army Officers Selection Board. Standing before the board, your name had raised a few eyebrows of recognition. You don't know how much was you actually doing well in selection and how much was your fathers name but you walked out the next day with a paper slip granting you a scholarship and a place at Sandhurst.  
On the way home you did not feel pride or any sense of accomplishment, only a numb nausea. You are not your father, you are just a young man interested in languages and reading. How you could be officer material you didn't know but you've always trusted in the powers that be and if they say you are an officer then you will try your hardest to be so.  
Your father had met you at the train station. Not being able to look your father in the eyes, fear, shame and anger still burning you wordlessly handed him the paper slip.  
Not saying a word your father directs you to the car, the drive to Sandhurst spent in complete silence.  
You open your eyes. The car is rolling over the empty parade ground outside the main building of Sandhurst academy. Your dad pulls over by the steps up to the main gate and you step out looking up at the large roman pillars before the doors. Nausea builds inside you.  
"Make me proud" your father says, slams the car door shut behind you and drives off.  
Step by step you climb the white stairs up towards the building, knees almost shaking. Standing before the doors you draw a deep breath and try to force the nausea down.  
The doors swing open. Anya gently pushes you through.

Stepping through the door is a pair of eight foot guards with large spears block your way. The sport the same muscular build as Anya and large bushy manes of hair cover their head, one guard chalk white, the other one fiery red. They wear the same loincloth as Anya but their chests are covered in what can best be described as planks of wood, tied together by the ends into a lamellar armor, rolled over their torsos. Their faces are covered by masks carved from the skulls of large bulls so their facial features are hidden from you. The masks also serve to make the look absolutely terrifying in your eyes. You halt and take a few step backwards bumping into Anya. Anya grabs you by the shoulders and leads you inside the gate arc. You can feel the gaze of the guards on you despite their grim masks, those empty eyes of the skulls make you feel like it's the gaze of death itself. A shiver runs up your spine.  
"Lum don't worry, only Nati and Enyri who guards the gates. Anya was warrior pup along Nati and Enyri" Anya says trying to calm you down.  
"Sun upon you Nati and Enyri" she greets the guards.  
"Sun upon you Anya" they reply, soft female voices in stark contrast with their grim masks. You can't quite follow the lively conversation that follows as Anya and her friends as they talk fast and laugh a lot. What you can tell is that Anya was declared lost and presumed dead and the fact that she has now turned up is somehow hilarious for everyone involved.  
You also can also tell that one of Anyas older sister has done something of note and will be rewarded and that the golden hawks has beaten the jumping tigers and thus advanced in the league.  
Sport talk of some kind of ball game follows and you space out completely as you barely even understand the sports back home. While Anya talks with these angels of death before you, you peer around and try to get a good look at the buildings inside the wall.  
The general shape is square or rectangular, built by large stone blocks, fitted the same way as the city wall; irregular stone blocks cut to fit snugly together. The Inphas must be really talented stone workers as several buildings are two or three stories tall. Here and there you see the ends of wooden beams protrude from the walls, indicating that the floors inside are held in place by beams through small holes in the structure.  
Roofs mostly consist of baked clay tiles or thatch but some larger buildings are topped by stone domes. The fact that no cement seems to be present indicate high skill in the workmanship of the buildings. Stretching out before you behind the masked guards is a wide boulevard almost a hundred feet across, ending in a plaza in the far distance, a row of large palm trees bisecting the boulevard down to the plaza. The buildings lining the boulevard have large windows with open shutters facing the street, shops of various kinds, goods hanging on display inside.  
There are merchants with their stalls lining the walls, herbs, fruit, meat, clay pots and other mundane goods on sale. People move in every direction, browsing wares, eating or sitting on stone benches placed in the shade of the trees. Here and there carts of fresh produce are being pulled by large woolen ox like creatures, the size and horns indicating that the masks worn by the guards once belonged to such a creature. The buzz and din of a city street fills the air. In other words, it's pretty much a normal pre-industrial city in your eyes except for the fact that the inhabitants are walking bronze giants. The inhabitants are all Anya sized at least, powerful muscles evident even under the loose skin on a pair of old ladies sitting on a bench, talking and cackling like old ladies tend to do.  
Children running around and playing are often just as tall as you and far more muscled. You feel awfully small and weak.  
Clothing seems to consist of loincloths and breast bindings of either cloth or leather and you also see people wearing tabard like dresses, held in place with a rope around the waist. Jewelry consisting of copper medallions, metallic beads in the hair and clothing that jingle and clink as people move by. You wonder if Anya cannot them afford or simply foregoes the jingling jewelry as it would make her job as a hunter much harder.  
Your studies of the city are interrupted as a spear is pointed towards you.  
"Who strange child? Nati or Enyri asks. You can tell just by the touch of Anyas hands on your shoulders that she's been dying for them to ask just that.  
Anya quickly unbuttons your jacket, revealing your bare chest.  
"Anya caught man in forest while lost" Anya announces grandly, pride bubbling in her voice. The guards immediately leans their spears against the gates, rush up to you and kneel down, their masks level with your face. Those bleached bone masks so close to you causes you to back up hard into Anya. The guards pull their masks up on their heads like welders masks and look at you wide eyed. Their faces look young and pretty like Anyas although they both seem to have more blue eyes compared to Anyas deep emerald.  
You are once again subjected to having your chest prodded and sniffed. A slight blush creeps up your face.  
After a lengthy inspection the guards rise up and look at Anya with equal parts envy and admiration. You look up at Anya who looks proud as an awfully smug peacock.  
"Where to, Anya?" a guard asks, voice almost reverent.  
"To guild center. Anya got dismissed by old witch Grulda" Anya replies sounding just as smug as she looks. The guards stifles a chuckle before pulling the mask down over their faces again. They spin around, grab their spears and take up flanking positions beside you and Anya as you enter through the gate.  
"Pups on the gate!" one of your guards shout. From a small wooden gatehouse emerges a pair of girls in their mid teens by the looks of them, still well over a head taller than you. Wearing lamellar armor and spears but no masks, they close and take positions at the gates as you are being marched down the boulevard by the tree women.  
Eyes turn toward your small procession, whispers are exchanged and fingers pointed at your bare chest and strange gear. The guards use their spears to keep a building mass of people at bay as you walk along the busy street. The attention you get draws more attention, merchants and their customers stop mid transaction as you pass by to stare, children stop their games and look at you with wide eyes. The faces looking at you belongs to people of the entire age spectrum, young to old.  
You look for men among the faces not seeing any until you notice that a child is broader over the shoulders than usual and sports a thick black beard. A man? He's even shorter than you probably about 5"8'. A large eight foot woman has her hands on his shoulders in a possessive grip. Wife possibly? The woman in question is richly adorned in copper and gold jewelry, her long gray hair in several braids decorated with beads of various metals. Across her lips there are three black lines tattooed or painted similar to the one line of Anyas boss Grulda back at the hunting outpost.  
She's giving Anya a very disapproving look. Anya is swaggering along, proud as punch, a hand on your shoulder. She does not notice or by her general demeanor more likely, does not care about the look the woman is giving her. You realize that you are being showed off like you are the diamond dress at the kings ball and you have a sea of step sisters to either side of you. You see several faces with one black line and a couple more with three. The few men you see is without failure accompanied by three line women. Judging by the richness in jewelry and disapproval towards Anya increasing with the number of lines on their faces, it's not hard to deduce that the lines denote some kind of caste or social status.  
Having a man granted to you must be a three line privilege and maybe not even a guaranteed one as several three liners lack male companions, although they may have left their men at home. One thing is clear, a simple no liner like Anya should not have someone like you and the fear that someone might take you away from Anya makes you walk closer to her and squeeze the revolver in your pocket.  
You feel yourself enter the outer edge of the sandstorm of trouble. Your situation will most likely get worse before it gets better.  
If the Inphan society works like pretty much any other society in the world, rumors will spread and distort the facts and by the end of the day Anya might have captured a dozen men or maybe people will believe you are made of silver.  
You look at the few men present and try to judge what life will hold for you here while trying to find a possible way home. Some men just gives you a blank stares while others give you pained looks of sympathy. You marvel at the disparity in size between on particularly large woman and her man. The man or more fitting, boy is different from the broader bearded men you saw before.  
This one has slightly lighter skin, more like copper and no beard. If you where to guess age you would say about fifteen or sixteen, and almost five inches shorter than you. He has a very frightened look on his face and hugs the large woman around the waist, eyes darting back and forth. His wife or maybe mistress is more fitting, a particularly tall one, bordering on nine feet looks at you and Anya with an aloof look. This level of sexual dimorphism in humans feels like it belongs more somewhere in the animal kingdom.  
While you where busy studying the crowd, Anya and the guards has marched you to a circular plaza at the end of the of the boulevard. A large statue maybe fifteen feet high stands on a rough stone pedestal, depicting a naked muscular woman, pointing a spear to the sky in a heroic pose. The statue is disturbingly lifelike and you look away. Rock ought not to turn you on.  
"Queen Amilis was first one to unite all Inpha tribes and founded city" Anya explains, admiration in her voice.  
"To right Lum can see seat of queen Nataini, descendant of Amilis" Anya goes on with enthusiasm. Looking to your right along another boulevard you see a massive temple like structure, large pillars supporting a big domed roof. The structure looks almost five stories tall even before the large stone dome that is at least doubling the height.  
"To left, temple of thunder god and high sisters" Anya continues with less enthusiasm. Looking left along yet another boulevard you see a large ziggurat pyramid. A wide staircase is built into the side of the ziggarut up to the top, stopping in several plateaus. To your astonishment, on top of the ziggarut there is placed a mock up of a B-17 bomber. The wings are made from cloth over bamboo, there is no glass in the frames of the windscreen and the guns are sticks, but it's definitely a B-17. To get a life like replica like that you must have seen a real one unburnt which means there must have been at least some survivors given the crew of those large machines.  
"When did they build that?" you ask, gesturing towards the plane, hopes rising of survivors.  
"three roths ago when large thunderbird flew over city, again and again before returning to sky" Anya replies clearly uneasy about the subject. You press on.  
"Returned?" you ask, your hopes of survivors replaced by the hope of a possible way out.  
"Lum saw storm of thunderbirds before. Storm came with large bird. Bird flew above city roaring in anger before returning in storm. High sister built altar to appease the king of thunderbirds. High sisters have much power after that visit." Anya explains. She gives you a shove, partly because you had stopped to stare at the large wooden replica and partly because the subject made her uneasy and wishes to move on. Pieces fall into place in your mind.  
"Anya, when did the villages start to pay tribute to Imphas rather than go to war?" you ask changing the subject.  
"Maybe seven or eight roths ago. Inphas too strong for villages even when villages work together!" Anya starts excitedly. Anya and her guard friends starts to talk fast and passionately about various victories and exploits of their army. They describe in detail how the latest campaigns against the lizards has been more or less total routs for the enemies and that the lizards cannot muster forces enough to even threaten outposts. You listen with half an ear while you think.  
First you now know that there is a way back home or that you can at least enter through the rifts in both directions. Secondly you can deduct that around the advent of large scale aviation, the Inphas grew suddenly strong enough to defeat all their enemies to the degree that the war against lizards are more mop ups than regular battles and that the herder villages chose to pay their men in tribute rather than fight. It is possible that at the same time a cult grew to be the largest church from the looks of it, rivaling the queen in power if Anya is to be believed.  
When aviation grade metal started appear from the sky giving them such an advantage that they orchestrated Pax Inpha they also saw their internal power structure being disturbed by the rising star of the metal workers.  
You ponder this and if you can use it to your advantage while Anya and her friends chatter about their mothers war heroics until you reach the guild center at the other end of the plaza.

The building you stand before is a large three story stone structure with an intricate ornamented facade. Curving patterns have been carved around the large door and the open windows, the shutters richly carved with various motifs of warriors, hunters, stone cutters and other figures. Having reached your destination, Anya tells the guards to meet her at the usual place and head inside. The guards nod and disperse the small crowd following you.  
Inside the door there is a large lobby like area, benches and plants in the middle, walls lined with doors and stone sculptures depicting Inphas in various situations of work or battle. Lacking artificial light other than candles and torches, the lobby is lit by a large opening in the roof, letting the sunshine in.  
Looking up you see two levels of wooden catwalks with doors spaced in intervals. In front of you there is a large wooden desk, behind which a lady in her late fifties sit. You can tell just by looking at her that back in England she would be a librarian even if this librarian would be eight feet tall and with hard muscles packed tight under her skin. Not a soul would dare to misplace a book or even utter a sound in any library she ran.  
Sniffing the air you suddenly smell the universal smell of an office building. No matter where you are or on which world, somehow you can always tell an office by that same smell. They do have offices here? The Inphan society strikes you as very advanced for what is essentially a bronze age culture.  
Anya walks up with you to the desk and the librarian receptionist who is consulting a register, printed and bound in canvas or parchment of some sort.  
"Anya of Matron Remisia. Anya seeking consultation with path guide." she announces herself. The receptionist pages through the register without looking up. She quickly finds a page and reads in a monotone voice.  
"Anya Remisia, hunters path first class. Listed missing/dead two days ago?" her voice going up in a question towards the end.  
The lady looks up and peers at Anya with narrow eyes as if she's trying to spot if Anya might be an impostor. Suddenly her face lights up in recognition.  
"Anya! Old Belindi knew no beast could get Anya! What happened and why is Anya here?" She asks with a big smile on her lips. Anya shoves you in front of her.  
"Anya caught man in forest. Anya true woman now" she proclaims proudly. The lady looks at you and Anya, growing disbelief in her eyes. Suddenly she bursts out in a high pitched laughter, echoing trough the building. Her laugh only growing stronger, she grabs her stomach and slams the desk, splinters flying as a thick board snaps. Faces peer through some of the door, irritated or questioning at the ruckus in the lobby.  
The receptionist continues to suffer under her laughing attack for over a minute before she calms down and squeezes the tears from her eyes.  
"Oh Anya, only Anya would do that! Anya go to chamber 3-12, give this." the lady says handing Anya a stick carved with strange symbols from a chest while still shaking from pangs of laughter. You follow Anya and leave the receptionist to recover in peace.  
"Highest floor, Anya important now" she says happily, while looking at the stick. She places an arm around your shoulder and draws you close to her side. You place your arm around Anyas waist, feeling a bit ill a ease over the whole situation.  
Walking up a wooden stair, past a row of doors and up another stairway you end up in front of a door. Apparently the right one Anya knocks on the door. A tired looking woman, clad in a tabard dress and one stripe over her mouth opens the door. Anya hands her the stick and the woman inspects it for a moment before gesturing for Anya to enter.  
"Lum wait there, Anya will be back soon" she instructs and gestures toward a bench by the railing. You place your backpack and rifle by the bench and sit down. Off to your right you see a larger door. It's oriented facing the entrance down on the bottom floor and you can tell by the ornate woodwork that what or whoever resides behind that door is important. Probably the boss of this establishment.  
A feeling of déjà vu passes over you and you realize that you've been in this situation so many times before, being in London with your father, he had to visit one of the endless offices or banks while you are left sitting on a bench outside waiting for him to finish up whatever business he had inside.  
It feels like you have seen endless of offices, walked miles of bureaucratic corridors and seen thousands of dusty looking bureaucrats with your father and even when you get lost on a different world you end up in another office, waiting. Life can be funny like that sometimes.  
You wonder about the organisation of this society. Anya had called this a guild center. She got fired or dismissed by her boss at the hunting outpost, seemingly because of you.  
Does that mean that this is some kind of employment office or labor exchange? The various stone carvings could indicate that. You hope Anya isn't in trouble because of you, getting fired and all.  
As you ponder the organisation of the city, whether it's a centrally planned job market or if there is some kind of market economy the big door to your right swings open. Through it steps a tall woman wearing a dark blue dyed tabard with pinstripes and a golden rope around her waist.  
Seeing her in profile you notice that she's not wearing anything underneath the tabard. You advert your eyes, not wanting to stare.  
Looking straight at the floor you hope she'll not notice you. Given that you might be the only white person on this world and is wearing a uniform you tend to stand out, foiling your efforts to not draw attention. The woman stops in front of you and you look up.  
She has a narrow face, full lips, dark blue eyes and long jet black hair tightly pulled into a ponytail. Her posture, her face and her eyes tells you that this is a high born lady of considerable social status. Five black lines cross her lips giving her face a skull like appearance. While you are used to moving in the upper strata of society you don't feel either dressed or prepared to deal with this so you return your eyes to your feet.  
"So this is what caused the ruckus outside and set off Belindi?" she asks, voice oozing with the self confidence only nobility have. You look up and open your mouth yo reply but a raised finger stops you.  
A heated argument is heard behind the door which Anya disappeared through.  
"Anya. I should have guessed." the woman says, traces of a smile flashing over her lips.  
"You are the first man captured since the treaty with the villages. Less than one man is available for every nine women even with the tribute. Only the strongest or most worthy gets a man and almost never anyone with as many older sisters as Anya. Anya is a great girl from a noble line who was dealt a poor hand by the gods with her low birthing order. I don't begrudge her you." the woman continues, every word sharp.  
"I tell you this because I like Anya and her mother is a great warrior and a friend. Listen carefully. This place isn't safe for you. There are unseen dangers for you here, never leave Anyas side." she says with a warning voice. With that she turns on her heel and walks away. A feeling of foreboding fills you and you wish that you and Anya was back in the forest by the waterfall. You are also struck by the realization that she did not speak about you or herself in third person like the rest of the Inphas seems to do. Maybe it's a sign of status?  
The door to Anyas room opens and Anya emerges. She looks happy but a little tired. The woman inside is sitting by a table looking even more tired than before.  
"So, how did it go? you ask her.  
"Anya now city girl with recommendation to board of growth for family!" she chirps as she scoops you up in her arms and gives you a big kiss. You kiss back before the words sink in. Family? Board of growth? Here? Your mind starts to run wild and panic bubble until you remember that you are married and it's only fitting and proper for you and Anya to have kids one day. For Anya you would do anything.  
Still, you'd rather wait until you have a stable income and somewhere to live. Anya sets you down on the ground still smiling big.  
"Anya will have soooo many brave daughters with Lum" she proclaims and hugs you again. While you don't mind daughters you'd also like to see a son in there and you feel like you better discuss the housing and money issue. You would also like to know about this board of growth. When you think about it, with so few men to go around they probably have some agency preventing inbreeding and looking over which man goes to who here.  
You will have to ask Anya sometimes later. The family issue comes first.  
Time for you and Anya to have some tea at a cafe you decide. To do that you need currency. There are a few US dollars and some quarters in the captains wallet which you don't think he would mind if you spent as long as you got his letter through but you don't think dollars will buy you much here. If you could pawn some of your goods maybe you could earn some coins for a tea with Anya. Your belt is out, a heirloom from your father. Your clothing is a little threadbare to bring any real value and your tent, mess kit and bayonet have served you too well and you doubt a suitable replacement could be found on in world. Your weapons, no.  
Your canteen however, you saw some excellent looking water skins on display that would probably work just as well. Your current canteen is a standard British enameled metal one with a cloth cover, not much sentimental value to you anyway.  
You look up at Anya.  
"Anya, is there anywhere we can sell some gear? I like to take you for something to drink, if it pleases you." you ask and actually feel a blush creep up your cheeks. Despite that you and Anya has already been married and had sex, this is the first time you ask her out on a date. Anya looks at you questioningly.  
"Lum sell stuff? Lum want to buy Anya drink? she asks sounding confused. The Anya grins even wider and hugs you tighter.  
"Lum come from strange place where men fly the sky, fight in wars and take women for drink. All is backwards in land of Lum!" she laughs.  
You enjoy the feeling of having your face buried between Anyas breasts and stay silent until she releases you. Detaching the canteen from the backpack you remove the cloth cover and hold the blue enameled flask up to Anya. Despite the rough landing, the thick cloth protected the canteen well, it's new and has hardly a scratch.  
"We can probably sell this and buy a water skin later" you suggest. Anyas eyes go wide looking at the blue object. She carefully takes it and taps it with her finger. She nods.  
"Lum hide this. Anya knows the place to go" she says half whispering, looking around the area as if she wishes that no one saw you.  
She hands the canteen back and you slip it back in its cover. Anya takes you by the hand and leads you by the hand down the stairs and you waves to the librarian receptionist who falls into a fit of giggles as she see you leave.  
You button your jacket when you enter the street, not wanting to catch too much attention. Your pale face still get some looks but now everyone assumes you are some albino kid in strange clothes probably.  
Anya takes you by the hand and starts walking.  
Leading you up the a boulevard towards the ziggurat, Anya takes off into a side street and stops before a low building with a domed roof and no windows. It's not really a shady part of town as far as you can tell but you still feel uneasy away from the big open areas.  
Heading inside you enter a large room lit by candles and torches. The walls are lined with various metal objects from daggers, armor and spears to pots and jewelry, all gleaming in the fire light. A large table is placed in middle of the of the room displaying various artifacts from your world you would commonly find in aircraft. Pieces of plexiglas made into a necklace, a brass flare gun, a compass and the likes. You see a lighter which reveals why Anya was so impressed with yours.  
The very atmosphere in this shop feels expensive like they are about to charge you for just breathing it. Looking over the various metal objects you note that steel and iron, presumably from engines are reserved for weapons while copper and brass seems to be for pots and household items. The Aluminum seems to be mostly used in armor where mobility is essential such as legs or arm guards.  
The metalwork on the copper objects is decent but it's clear that the skill in steel and iron is severely lacking. Many objects such as a large and fearsome looking sword is made from a propeller blade or other re-purposed parts.  
Anya walks up to a counter behind which an one stripe woman sits looking down her nose at you and Anya like you where some vagabonds who strayed into her shop.  
"Item for auction on loan" Anya says in a hard businesslike tone.  
"Let's see" the clerk says in an disinterested voice. Anya waves you over. You place the blue canteen on the counter. The counter is almost up to your arms, obviously made to fit Inphan height. You suddenly find yourself not thinking of Anya and Inphas as big but rather yourself as small as everything is larger than it ought to be.  
The clerks eyes widen when she sees the canteen and picks it up carefully. She studies it for a moment. She whistles and an older three line woman comes through the door. The clerk hands the canteen to what you assume is her manager and the makes her exit to the backrooms. The manager pulls on a rope by the counter and a round shutter flies open at the very top of the domed ceiling. She walks up to the sunbeam that falls through the shutter and studies the canteen.  
"From where?" she asks Anya in a hard voice. Anya gestures to you.  
"From England" you reply flatly. Upon hearing your male voice her eyes narrow slightly. The rumors have spread it seems.  
The manager takes up a seat behind the counter and places the canteen between Anya and herself. You don't follow the fast negotiations but when a slip of parchment is signed and bag of coins handed over, Anya looks a bit more satisfied than the manager.  
The bag is rather large and it seems like Anya got a good price. If they don't know about enameling then of course it would be very valuable. If all else fails maybe you can start a business enameling things here. Sand there ought to be plenty of.  
As you leave Anya places a few copper discs in your hand.  
"Now Lum can treat Anya like back home. Anya will take you to her favorite drinkhouse" She says and giggles. You wonder if the rest of the money belongs to you too but remembering that Anya is very fond of the phrase 'Lum belongs to Anya', then it matters little in the end.  
Besides, it was just a canteen. You would be willing to spend far more on Anya if it meant you would hear her giggle more often.  
"So what deal did you get?" you ask.  
"The bottle will be sold on auction in three days. Coin is split between shop and Anya. Anya got good rates. The Shop will take coin owed by Anya plus rent from Anyas share upon sale" Anya explains and pats the bag of coins that is now tied to her hip and waving her parchment slip. This society is by far more advanced than it has any right to be.  
Walking through alleyways and smaller streets Anya leads you away from the immediate city center You ask about various signs and let Anya read them to you. While you have a decent grasp on their spoken language you have no idea about their writing.  
You have seen parchment and books so you hope that there is written books and literature to read.  
A cultural exchange between Britain and Inpha, introducing maybe E. Burke or Shakespeare while Inphan music and poetry could be sent back home. If there is such things that is. You hope to one day take Anya to the opera in London, the image of Anya in the finest dress money can buy burning in your mind.  
On your way to the outskirts of the city you briefly observe the construction of a small house. A cart loaded with large blocks stand on the street while a woman is fitting a stone a few yards up a wall.  
The stone fitted and done she jumps down to the ground, selects a block that looks to weight at least five hundred pounds and lifts it to her shoulder without so much as a grunt. She quickly walks up the scaffolding and with only a few glances and strokes from a bronze chisel, the stone falls apart into an L shape, fitting snugly over a corner.  
"A new house for a new mother. Maybe Anya if Lums seed takes root soon?" Anya giggles and drags you along. A blush creeps up your face and you wordlessly follow.  
Stopping by a shop with an open front Anya drags you inside. Behind the counter you see an old woman cleaning a large jug and several barrels in racks by the back wall.  
"Here we drink. Now Lum can treat Anya like an England girl" she says happily, pointing to the counter top. You place your coins on the counter. The old woman gives you no notice. Anya slides the coins slightly forward. The old woman glances up and gives Anya a curt nod. Anya drags you behind the shop to a small courtyard shaded by trees. You seat yourself on a slightly too large stone bench and Anya takes a seat beside you.  
"Anya come here often to drink with her friends. Best drinking house this side of plaza" she says gesturing around the court yard.  
The old lady soon emerges with two large cups on a plate. Anya grabs both and hands one to you. Inside is about a pint of a dark red liquid. You carefully take a sip. Wine. No matter what they call it over here it's definitely pressed and fermented grapes or berries of some sort.  
You know your wines, your father is a big wine collector and it's one of the few hobbies you both shared and enjoyed together. What you drink now is certainly not 1921 St.Emilion Cheval Blanc but it's serviceable. You sip your wine as Anya swallows a big gulp.  
Maybe not tea but it'll do.  
"So Anya, about our future. How to afford a house?" you ask carefully.  
"Lum don't worry about a house. Builders guild makes houses and when matrons die all daughters are expelled from house into blocks. To own a new house they must move to outposts, farms or villages. When Anyas belly grows, a house will come" she says happily. You are first feeling aghast at a system that ejects the occupants of a house when the family head passes but you also think that is one way to get skilled city labor out to the provinces and prevent urbanization. Also, the children should be well grown up by then you hope.  
"What about income?" you continue.  
"Anyas job will be to make new warriors with Lum for the queen and going to war when the queen calls." she says, absolutely delighted at the thought of it.  
"Anyas mother will pay until the daughters of Anya works and bring income to the house." she continues.  
The idea that the only the strongest or most intelligent get to start a family and when they do, only the strongest or most intelligent of their children get to continue the family line in a perpetual breeding program both makes sense to you and makes you appalled. You force the thoughts from your head, it is not yours to judge you feel. A society with so few men must be organized in strange ways to work.  
"Tell Anya more about trains" Anya demands.  
You decide it's a good idea to let Anya worry about family matters on this world as you'll try to convince Anya to follow you back to England when or if the time comes.  
"Okay, about steam locomotives..." you begin. Anya listens intently. For half an hour you and Anya talks about trains and by her second cup Anya first makes the innuendo about trains and tunnels while giggling.  
By her fourth cup Anya laughs wildly about steam pistons thinking either them or your maybe not entirely innocent gestures mimicking their movement hilarious. By now you have finished your first cup and you are getting pretty tipsy as well. While the sun starts approaching the horizon Anya grabs a fifth cup and drags you off the bench.  
"Time to head home and meet mother" she says, voice bubbly from the wine. She drags you through an alley into an back street and you walk beside each other.  
Anya continues to talk about trains but the thought of meeting Anyas mother keeps your slightly drunk mind distracted. From what you can tell she is a great warrior and respected member of society. Anya seems to think very highly of her. Will she approve of you? You are in the same business in a matter of speaking, maybe that will impress her some?  
"Something wrong Lum?" Anya asks, slight worry in her voice.  
She steps in front of you, bends forwards and rests her forehead against yours.  
"Are Lum perhaps ill? she continues, her face so close to yours flustering you slightly  
"Or perhaps just distracted by Anyas body? she says with a teasing voice. As she is leaning down towards you stare directly down her cleavage and she pulls her leather bindings down just enough to let slip the curve of a dark areola. Your eyes shoot wide and dick springs up.  
Anya laughs loudly and starts down the street again with her mug of wine. Your slightly drunk mind won't lose in teasing and you run up beside her.  
"Oh Anya, I have seen how you have been looking at my caboose lately, that's why you want me to talk about trains, right? You say softly.  
As you mention the word caboose you reach in under her loincloth and runs a finger over a round butt cheek. Anya jumps slightly at your touch and you chuckles. The smooth skin under your touch does not lessen your erection however.  
Anya grabs you head and presses it into her breasts.  
"Lum has fevers, feels hot against my skin" Anya giggles. Not wanting to be the prude one you reach under her loincloth and run a finger along her fabric covered mound. Anya jolts.  
"Maybe I need the medicine fresh from the source?" you mumble between her breasts, drunken mind not being able to come up with something better.  
Still hugging your head to her chest, Anya rapidly changes direction dragging you along. She releases you and you see that you are in an alley ending against the city wall. To your left there is a grass covered patch forming a dead end behind a warehouse.  
"This is home for tonight. Anya will give Lum the cure" Anya whispers in your ear. You are shoved further into the alley away from any looking eyes, hidden from the world. You land in a heap on the grass.  
Anya walks up beside you, reaches behind her and pulls on the knot holding her bindings in place.  
Her breasts bounce free and those dark nipples gently swaying with her breasts calls to so strongly that you begin to rise from the ground without thinking. A foot presses down on you thigh keeping you down. Anya pulls on the rope on her loincloth and with an instant she's naked. Anya leans against the wall and parts her legs slightly. If she sought to cure your erection she failed with that pose.  
She slowly begins to pour a trickle of wine between her breasts.  
"Anya spilled some drink" she says with a sultry voice.  
It quickly runs down between her abs down toward her silvery bush. You need no prompting about what to do. You scuffle forward to sitting under her, places your lower lip against her pussy and open your mouth. The trickle of wine reaches her silver pubes staining them red and leaves ruby pearls in the coarse hair.  
You lick and suck all the wine from her pubes, trying to not miss a drop. Wine runs down and hang in droplets from the curve of her puffy lips. You lick over and between them making sure to not miss anything and also tease her hard nub as every chance presents itself.  
Anya shivers as your tongue touches her most sensitive parts and she slightly increases the flow of wine forcing you to lick faster and harder to keep up.  
The taste of Anya mixed with wine works like a drug on you, you want more and more, to get more of Anya.  
You explore every fold of her from this position, closing your eyes and letting your tongue see for you. You want to know every part of her by touch and taste.  
Anya moans softly and places a hand on your head gripping your hair. She gently steers your head up and down between her legs to guide you where she wants you to pay attention. You soon can tell by how she pulls your hair where she wants your tongue to go. Eventually you need no wine to give it your all so she places the wine cup on a barrel beside her and busies herself with massaging her breast instead.  
You reach under her and grab a round butt cheek with one hand and begin to massage her butt. Her hand keeps you steady over her clit and you rub against and around it with great precision. Your nose is now buried in her pubes and the smell of her after a day of walking the city is so deep and intoxicating you feel like its replacing all the air in your lungs with love. You sink two fingers into her soaking depth and start to gently work on her secret spot gently. You want Anya to enjoy this for as long as possible.  
Anya raises a leg and rests it over your shoulder while moaning deeper. The weight of her leg is heavy but you feel like you could lift the world for Anya at this moment.  
Her breathing becomes ragged and she begins to lightly buck her hips against your face. You feel her squeeze around your fingers and you slow down you teasing of her weak spot while your tongue starts to stroke hear meaty lips instead. Eventually Anya slows her breathing again and she guides you back to her nub and you resume to lick her most sensitive area.  
Anyas fluids starts to flow in bigger amounts, a string going down your wrist and covering your face. You try new thing like curling your tongue around her clit and running your thumb over and between her puffy lips as your fingers work in and out of her.  
Soon Anyas breathing gets harder again and she starts to squeeze your fingers tighter. You try to shift away your attention but both hands locks you in their grip. Signals clear, your mouth and fingers speed up inside Anya. With a deep gasp Anya closes tight and quivers around your fingers while a jet of her warm nectar shoots into your mouth. You keep your fingers and mouth in place until her quivering subsides.  
Anya leaning against the wall you lick your way up her body, following the wine trail up until it ends between her breasts. You give a dark nipple a kiss.  
While nibbling and licking her nipple you see her grab the wine jug again. She draws a mighty breath and holds it. Her large hand pulls your head backwards while she leans down and lock her lips with yours. Wine tasting slightly of Anya spills into your mouth. How much she could fit in her mouth you do not know but it's a lot. Her hand behind your head keeps your mouths locked and you are forced to drink down thw wine in big gulps, some spilling over your chin down your chest. You drink as much as you can while Anya lets her tongue lick and harass you as you try to swallow  
Eventually she breaks the kiss. She looks at your gasping face with the wolf eyes again. You unbuckle your belt and kick of your boots preemptively this time while Anya pulls of your jacket. As soon as you are naked Anya hugs you close her and kisses you again.  
The entire front of your body burns where Anyas skin touches yours while you shiver from the cool evening air on your back. Anya gently lowers you to the grass while kissing you. She breaks the kiss and you fall the last inch to the ground.  
Anya is positioned on all fours directly above you.  
"Lum a good dog, made Anya feel great. Good dogs get rewards" she purrs into your ear. You don't mind at all being called a dog as long as you are Anyas dog. You want to be Anyas dog for all eternity.  
She lowers her hips and you feel her warm pussy pressing into your erection. Her puffy vulva parts and envelops you, still covered in her juices and your saliva, scalding hot. Sparks shoot up your mind. Anya straighten herself and grabs hold of your waist and at the same time using her upper arms to press her breast together making them look even bigger. Anya closes her eyes, bites her lower lip and starts to grind against you with a sticky sound.  
Your mind starts to flash as her pussy slides back and forth over your shaft. Her hard nub is rubbing against you, her folds move like they have life of their own as she slides from side to side, back and forth and in circular motions. Anyas chest heaves as she moves on top of you and you try to stifle a moan.  
The very idea of doing this in a city, the risk of getting caught both terrifies you and arouses you in your drunken state. Anya whimpers a little and you feel her hips shake slightly on top of you. The feeling of Anya on top of you, the slimy wetness between her legs, the heat of her body, the smell of her, the sight of her naked body and the wine numbing your mind overload your senses. You feel so much that you there is no room in your mind for thoughts and your mind and body feels like a slave under Anyas spells.  
A climax builds within you and you are powerless to fight it.  
Your dick starts to twitch under Anya who smiles and speeds up her grinding. Moaning and unable to hold back you shoot thick spurts of cum all over your chest. Anya leans forward slightly and makes sure to grind every last drop out of you. Reaching back she grabs the almost empty wine cup and pours the remaining wine on your chest and stomach.  
"Lum dirty, Anya must make Lum clean" she purrs, grinning wildly. Body still shivering from the powerful orgasm you just lay and try to piece your mind back together.  
Anya slides back and brings her lips to yous chest. Her hot breath on your skin feels like fire and you shudder.  
With meticulous detail Anya licks your chest clean from cum and wine. Her hot slippery tongue over your nipples makes you jolt with pleasure. Anya gives a nipple a slight bite and you yelp in pain. Giggling to herself Anya continues downwards, her tongue covering every inch of you, leaving you slick with her saliva. Suddenly she bites the skin above your bellybutton and your hand shoots up to push her away. She catches your hands and looks up at you grinning like a wolf.  
"Lum too delicious, Anya had to taste" she growls softly. Still holding your hands tight she licks all over your abdomen, every now and then giving you a bite. Not knowing when the pleasure of her hot tongue on your skin will be interrupted by pain, you just lay there shivering like a rabbit between the paws of a wolf, holding your breath, body tense.  
By the time Anya reaches your crotch you are already rock hard again but that doesn't prevent Anya from pretending you need extra teasing to get erect. She grabs your dick and strokes gently.  
"If Lum moves or releases, Anya bites" she purrs, white teeth shining in the dying light. Given that you already have several bite marks over your body you have no reasons to doubt her.  
Anya places a wet kiss on your tip and your vision flashes. She slowly licks up and down your shaft, tilts her head and let her soft lips wander the length of your cock. The waves of pleasure crashes over you like a raging sea, you shudder and moan, trying to keep still fearing the sharp teeth so close to your dick. Anya kisses her way up to your tip and slowly takes you into her mouth and sucks hard.  
Her tongue circles your fleshy tip, her soft lips move up and down and every now and then she lets her teeth brush against your hard shaft as to remind you of her threat.  
Anya raises her head slightly, closes her lips around your tip and lets her tongue run wild over it while her hand jerks you with lightning speed.  
No threat of teeth or bites can keep that kind of pleasure from building towards a climax. Anya swallows you to the base and you whimper and strain against the inevitable. Your dick starts to twitch. Suddenly Anya stops her attack and crawls up next to you. You breath out and force the feeling down panting heavily.  
"Anya want Lums seed inside her. Anya NEED Lums seed inside. Anyas belly aches for Lums seed" she whispers in your ear. She hugs you tight and rolls over on her back, you on top of her. Dick throbbing you reach down and slide your tip up and down Anyas soaking crevice. Anya moans quietly.  
Finding what you're looking for, you ease yourself inside her. Anya shudders and squeeze tight around you. You continue to push until you are buried balls deep in Anya and you just lay there to feel the heat of her skin, her tight and sticky insides and the taste of her sweat against your lips as she pulls your head tight to her chest. Anya wraps her legs around your back and gently begins to buck her hips.  
The difference in length between you places your mouth directly at her breasts and you take a hard nipple in your mouth. It tastes salty from sweat and you begin to pump your hips slowly. Anya gasps as you start to move.  
Every time you pull out, Anyas insides squeezes impossibly tight as if to drag you back inside and with every thrust her body relaxes slightly like it's relived to feel you reenter. Anya moans and drags her fingers through your hair while an arm hugs you almost painfully tight. Your mouth is busy with her breasts but between keeping your hips moving and the feeling of every fold and squeeze her flesh gives you, there is not much finesse to your tongue play. Eventually you settle for burying your face between her breasts and focus all your mind and body in your dick working inside Anya. Between her gasps and moans Anya whispers your name over and over.  
"Faster Lum... Faster!" you hear her whisper in a hoarse voice and you speed up accordingly.  
Wet slapping sounds fills the alley and Anyas moans grows louder. You fear that someone might hear but the danger of it excites you even more.  
The pleasure and happiness Anya gives you is overpowering and again you feel yourself becoming a slave to her body. She does not even need to say anything, the reactions of her body against yours tells you what she wants of you. Her breathing, her shivering, her gasps and squeezes orders your actions like a written text.  
Anyas legs starts to pull you back inside in rhythm with your thrusts, strong muscles quivering against you. Pleasure shoots like sparks of electricity between you, and your mind starts to space out. You want to stay enveloped by Anya like this forever. You want to service Anya, pleasure Anya and worship Anya in every way.  
Anya squeezes you tighter and tighter with every thrust and you increase your pace. The squeezes and shivering of her body tells you that Anya is getting close to her peak and you are near your edge too. You again take a nipple between your lips and with a final thrust you also give Anyas nipple a slight bite, pushing Anya over the edge.  
Anyas arms and legs draws you into a back breaking hug and you relax and let Anyas shivering squeezes draw you over the edge with her.  
You erupt deep inside Anya, your cum shooting in spurts and filling her up.  
Anya moans loudly and her body jolts with every spurt of cum you shoot inside her. For several minutes you just lay there in Anyas arms, listening to her breath. You finally roll off her with a sticky sound and lay beside her and let the cool night air brush over your sweaty skin.  
Anya slowly massages her lower abdomen, just above her soaking wet silver tuft.  
"Lums seed burns inside. Lums seed inside Anya" she whispers to herself.  
You roll up against her side, rest your head against her shoulder and place an arm across her chest. It's cold in the night but resting against your warm Anya, you will endure and enjoy anything.  
Having poured everything you got into Anya, you fall asleep.

You wake up the following morning by Anya kissing you gently. It's a sunny day and the light makes your head throb.  
You look up at Anya. She looks fit as a fiddle despite that she drank several bottles of wine equivalent last night. Still, being able to look sharp despite being drunk or hungover is a valued property of any officer, something that you and your friends at the academy practiced and honed to an art.  
Anya who is already dressed drags you to your feet.  
"Lum get dressed. We must go to Anyas real home" she says giggling. Groaning you pull your clothes on and gather your gear. The thought of meeting Anyas family in this state feels discomforting but you managed worse before. It's mostly Anyas mother who worry you.  
Anya watches patiently as you dress up. Peering around the corner for the coast to be clear, you both slip out from the alley into the street, giggling like you've pulled of a major heist. Anya places her arm around our shoulder and draws you in close and you place your arm around Anyas waist and lean against her.  
Despite the slight headache and slightly upset gut you feel like a king. The small street is sunny and people are starting to move about. Despite that the sun is well above the horizon it looks like people are just out of bed and the air is relaxed. The only people who seems to be up are merchants who man their stands selling foodstuffs. It's clear that it's either some kind of weekend or holiday.  
"Anya is there anything special about today?" you ask.  
"Today is the end of moon, the day of emerging matrons." Anya says.  
"The queen will bestow men upon strong warriors and worthy leaders so that they may become new mothers" Anya says with reverence in her voice.  
"When will this happen and can we go see it? you ask, genuinely curious about the ceremony. From what you've gathered the lucky women will be happy but what about the men? Will they be happy?  
"Yes! The queen will be present!" Anya says, enthusiasm in her voice, eyes glittering.  
"And Anyas sister" she says with considerably less enthusiasm. You wonder is there is bad blood between Anya and her sisters.  
Anya stops by a stall and buys two loafs of bread. She hands one to you and digs in. Not having eaten much the last few days, you follow her example.  
The bread is fluffy and white but not of a taste you recognize. It's not wheat or rye, not corn either. Whatever it is, it's slightly sweet and not bad over all. You walk alongside Anya and watch the street fill with people. You still get looks but in general people look busy with their own affair. Every now and the you hear whispers and fingers are pointed indicating that some wonder if you are the rumored captive from yesterday. To your relief it looks like short hair is the norm among kids your size and except for your clothing and gear one could reasonably argue that you just look like a really pale girl, especially since the knowledge about the finer details of male features ought to be rare among the normal people.  
You finish your bread and look at the houses and street. You and Anya have walked for a while and you feel lost. You have no idea where the plaza is or where you are going. The dark back street you are on looks pretty deserted and you turn to ask Anya when a slight bump from her hip sends you flying into a small alley. You open your mouth to ask Anya what's going on but a hand gesture silences you.  
Remembering the words from the guild center you crouch down and unsling your rifle.  
"Sun upon you sister Argilis" Anya greets someone, her voice icy. Her sister. You return your rifle to your back.  
"Sun upon you sister Anya." Argilis answers with a superior tone to her voice.  
"All is well during Anyas time gone?" Anya asks voice still cold  
"Mother received letter of Anya dying two days ago from guild of hunters. Both guild and mother are lucky to have you back." Argilis replies, sarcasm dripping from her voice.  
"Anya got better. Anya heard Argilis will recieve the gift of motherhood, true?" Anya asks voice hard with controlled rage.  
"Argilis will be rewarded for leading the assault on a lizard hive, Argilis will get a man from the queen herself" Argilis gloats.  
"Maybe if Anya is a good hunter and don't get lost for many days on end, maybe the queen will notice Anya too?" Argilis adds in a jeering tone.  
"Lum!" Anya calls. You step out from the alley and Anya drags you in front of her and closes her arms around you.  
"Anya already found and conquered a man herself, the queen doesn't need to worry about Anya. Anya is already a real woman." Anya says in an nonchalant voice.  
"Before Argilis" she adds to really drive the point home, all venom saved up for that last line. You look up at Argilis. She does resemble Anya but looks a couple of years older, her face is more angular, her long hair is darker and almost straight, full of jingling metal beads. She is wearing a hammered aluminum breastplate, curved to fit her buxom, metal leg and arm guards and a richly embroider loincloth. An iron dagger hangs from her hip and several bangles of different metals hang from her left arm.  
Three lines cross her lips. Her eyes are a lighter green than Anyas but it's not what strikes you about her eyes. Her eyes burns with a rage so hot that it's almost burning your eyebrows.  
If it's not Anyas heavy handed lovemaking, hidden threats in the city or plane crashes that gets you, it's gonna be Anya creating enemies for you who threaten to immolate you with their eyes. You back up hard against Anya.  
"How fortunate of Anya." Argilis manages through clenched teeth. With that she turns and stomps off, the ground almost cracking under her steps.  
Deeper into the storm of trouble you go.  
Anyas eyes are burning with the passion of revenge finally had and hugs you tighter to her before finally leading you around to the main street in front of a large stone house The house is two stories high and square with a tiled roof. Anya stops before the door, straightens your hair, opens your jacket and wipes some dust off your face.  
"Welcome to house of Remisia, home of Anya" she says and leads you through the door.  
Directly in front of you when you enter is a staircase leading up to the second floor. Anya leads you trough a portal to your right into a large room full of people. In the middle of the room there is a large rectangular stone table with low legs. The people in the room are seated on mats and cushions, talking and laughing. Except one. On a slight dais on the far side of the room is large wooden armchair in which sits a massive woman. The first thing to enter your mind when you see her is 'Super Anya' as her features resemble Anya but grown in every proportion. She is closing to her fifties and her hips are wider, breasts larger, hair wilder and dyed firey red, thicker arms, wider shoulders, everything.  
Her face looks to be locked in a permanent hard frown as if she is about to explode into rage and destroy the world at any moment. Five lines cross her lips and the skull like appearance almost makes you flinch when looking at her. Scars crisscross her body and she is wearing a several layers of leather breast bindings, a thick leather loincloth and multiple studded leather bands around her limbs. Her red hair is held from her face by a copper band around her head looking almost like a crown.  
In other words, she looks like a caricature of a warrior queen, torn from the pages of a comic book. Everything about her, the dais, the studded bands and firey hair looks as if it's meant to tell anyone who enters her house that they messed up really bad. It works. The stare she's giving you makes you feel like setting foot in her house will cause you to regret it the rest of your soon to be brutally cut short life.  
"Anya's home!" Anya announces loudly and gladly. The women around the table raises hands and voices to greet her but freeze as they see you and your naked chest. They slowly get to their feet, and soon a wall of eight feet tall women stand before you. Three of them are one liners and two are definitely younger than Anya, one closer twelve and the only one who is just slightly taller than you. All look like Anya in one way or another, green eyes, similar facial structure, same posture or shoulders. Anyas sisters.  
The look everyone gives you makes you feel like a cat in a dog pen just at the moment when the pack of dogs goes 'really?' before they tear it to shreds.  
"OUT!" a voice booms like thunder behind them.  
The women and girls scuffle past you and Anya, out the door to the street like the house was on fire. You wish more than anything that you and Anya would follow but you end up alone in the large room with the angry mountain. Anyas mom, Remisia. Only a man with copper skin and a long beard stays behind, sitting by the large chair on the dais. You hadn't noticed him before and currently you don't care about him since the behemoth has stood up from the chair. You'd rather face the apocalypse than face her right now.  
Anya leads you to the end of the table, facing her mother across it.  
"Sun upon you mother. Anya home. Anya caught a man" Anya says with a nervous voice. Remisia gestures towards you, face still frowning and eyes burning. Anya takes the backpack and rifle and places the by the door. She then shoves you towards the leviathan before you.  
"Lum, go and present yourself to mother" she say in your ear, slightly nervous.  
You walk around the table feeling like a man walking to his noose. Remisia is more than a full head taller than Anya and scarred muscles ripple across her body in a way that makes her look more fearsome than any other Inpha you've seen so far. You stand before her shaking in your boots. A massive hand closes around your throat. You close your eyes and await the crunch from her crushing your neck. Instead you are being bent backwards over the table and once again you have your chest subjected to the sniffing test.  
Remisia grabs you by the belt and with a shove she sends you sliding across the table into Anyas lap who has fortunately taken up seat at the far side. Thinking nothing of it Anya picks you off her lap and gently places you beside her.  
Remisia makes another gesture and the man by the chair rushes up beside her. He is greeted by a lazy backhand that sends him sprawling on the floor. Both you and Anya wince. Like he didn't notice the man picks himself off the floor, rushes out a small door and soon returns with four large steaming cups on a tray. He places two cups before you and Anya and two at the other side of the table and takes a seat opposite of you. Remisia walks up and seats herself beside him.  
She starts to drink from the cup and the man immediately drinks from his. Following his example you wait until Anya drinks before tasting yours.  
Tea. Or something close enough in any case. Oh how long you have waited for tea. Despite the tension in the air being so thick that you can cut it, you take time to enjoy your tea.  
"Where and when did you find a man Anya?" Remisia asks, her voice calm and collected despite her violent appearance and behavior.  
"Anya was uh, out hunting when she found Lum, close to the Kaiseen waterfall" Anya explains nervously.  
"And why where you lost for several days until declared dead? Remisia asks now with a hard edge to her question. You feel like that the incident where you incapacitated Anya for days will have to stay between you and Anya for quite some time.  
"Uh, Lum was wild and needed taming. Anya was taming and taking Lum whole, that's why Anya was gone" Anya says and you feel like you're listening in when a mother questions a child who has been absent from school.  
"You need several days to tame a man Anya?" Remisia asks with a raised voice and placing a clenched fist on the table. Blood drains from your face at hearing her raised voice.  
"Anya does not like mothers taming. It is old and not fitting for a upstanding Inphan" Anya says with an angry voice. Anya just signed her death warrant and probably yours as well, you can feel it. Remisia draws a deep breath, her fist clenches tighter and shakes slightly. You wait for the world to explode in fire and brimstone. Remisia breathes out and closes her eyes.  
"It matters not, you have a man now Anya. I will have house Argilis and house Anya to support." she says voice calm again.  
"Such is the law mother. Before the treaty up to three houses where common" Anya says.  
"Times have changed Anya. Still, house Remisia will have two branches where most houses have one, there is honor in that" Remisia says and for the first time you see the hint of a smile upon her lips.  
"With the funds for house Argilis already set aside, house Anya will be poor until daughters work." Remisia says with a warning voice.  
"Anya does not care, Anya will form house Anya with Lum" Anya says with fire in her voice. Anya and Remisia stare at each other for a moment. The Lambton estates are very rich and you feel that it's silly that you and Anya should live in poverty either here or there. When or if you make contact with home, funds or more likely valuable goods equal those funds might be transferred over here to grant you a proper home befitting your station. If you get it your way, Anya will follow you to England and she will live a life of opulence she could hardly imagine.  
"Maybe-" you start before a stare from both Anya and Remisia pierces you. You feel like a mouse who dared to squeak between two lions.  
"Lum, take the gear to Anyas room, second door to the left upstairs" Anya says in a calm voice trying not to sound irritated over the major faux pas just committed. You grab your stuff and retreat upstairs. Below you hear negotiations resume, Anya and Remisia talking about when and where a house and funds can be obtained.  
The stairs up lead into a wide corridor with six doors to either side. You open the second door to the left and enter Anyas room.  
It's less of a room and more of an alcove with a door, other than a wooden bunk, a small wooden chest and a stool there is not much room for else. The room is about nine by fifteen feet and a window lets the daylight in on the far end. You close the door behind you as the debate downstairs go on.  
You sit down at the bunk and place the backpack in front of you. You look through your stuff for things to sell so that you and Anya can live a better life should you be stuck here any longer.  
The mosquito netting might be sold so you place it beside you. You have not had much use for the firesteel so you put it in your pocket for later sale. You look at the lighter. It looked very expensive in the shop but Anya has been very fond of it and you like her to have it. You put it back in the backpack.  
There is not much else to sell so you busy yourself cleaning the guns as the debate downstairs rages on. You begin with the revolver and you rub away as much rust you can from it. You open the compartment in the stock of the SMLE rifle and pull out the cleaning equipment. It contains a small oil bottle and you get the Webley revolver decently clean and able to dry fire properly. Feeling confident it wont fail, you put it back in your pocket. You unload and pocket the rounds from the rifle and start working it over too. The debate downstairs sounds heated as it reaches you muffled through the door. By the time you have cleaned the rifle and are pretending that you are on a grouse flush back home, dry firing against birds out the window there is the sound of a scuffle downstairs.  
You hear the sound of someone walking up the stairs and soon Anya enters the room.  
She looks tired, downcast and something is running down the corner of her mouth. Blood. You notice that her cheek is slightly swollen and your chest feels very cold all of a sudden.  
You scrape the various gear off the bunk and drag Anya to it. She lays down on it looking very tired. You sit down on the floor by her head and use your sleeve and gently dab the blood away.  
"What happened?" you ask almost worried to tears.  
"Mother is not always kind. Mother gets violent when angry. Or excited. Or happy. Bored. Mother is violent." Anya explains in a tired voice. You choke down an urge to go downstairs and show Remisia how violent one can be with a revolver.  
"Anya used to hear when mother took seed from her man. He screamed very much. Anya never want to hear Lum scream like that." Anya continues sounding even more tired.  
You close your arms around her neck and hug her. You also feel a bit more thankful towards your father, he doesn't seem so bad compared to the monster downstairs Anya had to grow up with. Anya pulls you up on the bunk beside her and hugs you tight.  
For a long moment you just lie there in each others arms. Anya begins to snore lightly. Feeling very tired all of a sudden you feel that there is no better time spent than sleeping in Anyas arms and you allow yourself to slip into sleep as well.

Someone knocks on the door.  
"Anya, sun is almost setting, get ready for night of new matrons" a voice calls beyond the door.  
Anya flies awake sending you flying with her before Anya catches you and hauls you onto her lap.  
"Yes Emsiri, Anya will be ready soon!" Anya shouts.  
She places you on the bunk and opens the small chest. From it she takes a small pouch, breast bindings and a long red loincloth. She slips out from her old and into her new clothing so fast you don't even have the time to get aroused by her naked body.  
The chest binding is this time a large piece of embroidered cloth, barely wide enough to reach around her sides. Instead it's held in place and strung tight across her back with strings, leaving her back almost bare. You decide you like that look quite a lot since it gives you a dose of sideboob which is a new way for you to enjoy looking at her breasts.  
"Lum, decorate Anyas hair" Anya says and pours a handful of copper beads into your palm from the pouch. She takes a seat on the stool facing the window. The usual feeling of being late for an event fills you and you work quickly. You part Anyas hair into three long strands and braid it, slipping pearls into the braid at equal intervals. Not having anything to tie the braid off with you rip a small ribbon from the mosquito netting and finishes your work. While you have come to love Anyas wild hair, the pearls and the green ribbon looks pretty good against her silver colored braid.  
Anya pulls the braid over her shoulder and inspects your work with a delighted giggle.  
"Lum is very good, Lum will make Anyas daughters sooo pretty." You feel a slight blush creep up your face at the flattery.  
She looks out the window and jumps up from the stool.  
"Anya is almost late!" she says and drags you after her out the empty house. The both of you soon realize that there is not the slightest of chance for you to keep up with a running Anya so she simply scoops you up in her arms and takes in full speed, weaving between alleys and backstreets. Her speed is almost that of a horse and you close your eyes as the speed scares you. You try not to imagine yourself being pancaked between Anya and a wall should she slip or stumble.  
Again you find yourself completely lost, you have lost all sense of direction to either Anyas home, the city gate or the plaza. Anya suddenly stops in front of a three story wall, sets you down and goes down to one knee.  
"Lum, climb up on Anyas back" she says gesturing for you to get on. You close your arms around Anyas neck and wrap your leg around her waist.  
Anya straightens herself and jumps up and grabs a protruding beam ten feet off the ground. She pulls herself up, finds footing in a crack, jumps up, grabs a window, pulls her self up standing on the beams and so on until she pulls herself over the parapet at the top. You, clinging on for dear life feels pale and almost nauseous. You find yourself on a wooden roof with a large stone dome through it in the middle. Between the parapet and the dome there is a few feet of flat roof, enough to walk on. You slide down Anyas back but keep your arms around her waist and face buried in her back as vertigo has you in its grip. Anya leads you to a corner of the roof and sits down.  
"This is Anyas favorite spot for Emerging Matrons and there is still time left" Anya says slightly winded after the exertion.  
You look up. You are on a building overlooking the large palace where the queen apparently resides. On a large parade ground in front of it a mass of people mills around in preparation. It looks like at least a few thousand has showed up for this event.  
By the broad stairs leading up to the temple a line of short figures are lined up. Men you realize. A catwalk protrudes from the large doors of the temple out into the parade ground, bisecting the stairs in two. Braziers are lit across the grounds and along the temple despite the sun still shines slightly above the horizon. Since whatever event that is supposed to take place has not begun you turn to Anya, still feeling that the housing situation is not resolved.  
"Anya, since your mother is angry, does that mean we won't get support to start a family?" you ask in a worried voice. Anya chuckles.  
"Mother? Angry? Nooo, this was a happy or excited blow" Anya says with a bitter laugh.  
"Angry blows from mother? Lum will know if mother strikes someone in anger" Anya continues with a chuckle.  
"So, what about a house?" you ask.  
"House Remisia is rich from much plunder and strong daughters" Anya says proudly.  
"Mother will support and find smaller house for Anya and Lum, Anya will even have her ceremony of seeds with Argilis tonight" she continues happily.  
You are about to ask what that entails when a fanfare sounds below. The door to the palace swings open and out walks a procession of fierce looking Inphas. All well over eight feet tall, dressed in black tabards, metallic breastplates and steel tipped spears the are certainly well equipped. Their synchronized steps and hard movements makes your inner officer happy, it is clearly high quality infantry you see, well drilled and practiced. Their most striking feature is however their shaved heads and facial skull masks so life like they must have been made from real skulls.  
They march out the catwalk and stand attention lining it. Between them walks a woman, loaded down with golden medallions, gold embroidery on a long loincloth reaching down to her feet, shaved head, face painted white except for her nose and around her eyes. Seven lines cross her lips and with her face paint she looks far more skull like than even a real skull would have managed.  
The skull like impression Remisia and the office lady gave you might have been intentional you realize.  
"Queen Nataini!" Anya squeals like a schoolgirl who have just seen her idol. Yep, a proper fangirl beside you.  
The queen walks out to the end of the catwalk and raises her hand to greet the crowd.  
The crowd greets their queen with a cheer. Fanfares blow. Anyas eyes are twinkling with admiration.  
Raising a hand the queen makes a motion and all turns to silence. The sun slips behind the ziggurat and casts the temple and the ceremony into its long shadow. Anyas eyes still twinkles.  
A line of about fifty people march in a in a column and form a line in front of the queen on the catwalk. Some wear rich tabards, some wear armor and spears, others are adorned in intricate feather costumes and hairpieces. All is richly adorned in jewelry. One of them is Anyas sister Argilis and you recognize her hair and bangles pretty far to the left in the line. The line of men takes up place in front of them.  
An announcer reads a name and a man breaks free from his line and joins the woman furthest to the left. The crowd cheers. The queen raises a hand and all turns silent again. The process is repeated and another man and woman is joined. You hear Argilis name being called and a small figure breaks free from the line of men and walks over to her. Terror or extreme nervousness mark his movements. Argilis pulls him to her and holds him close to her body. You can't see her face but you hope the both of them will be happy even if she doesn't get along with Anya. As Argilis gets her partner Anya pulls you to sitting between her legs and hugs you to her chest. You and Anya sit and watch the pairings in silence.  
As the ceremony goes on it's becomes darker and darker. By the time the last couple is assigned it's pitch black and the courtyard is lit only by the braziers.  
Having overseen the procedure the queen turns on her heel and slowly walks back to her palace as the guards fall in behind her.  
The ceremony did only take little less than an hour and you see the various pairs move away. Some women pick up their partner for a long hug or kiss while others march them away to wherever they must go. Anya gives a long sigh and she looks admiringly at the queen as she leaves. You almost feel a sting of jealousy you snuggles up closer towards Anya. Anya bends over you and gives you a light kiss on the forehead before standing up.  
"What happens next?" you ask.  
"Time for houses to celebrate their emerging matrons" Anya says while stretching after the long sit. You stand up and walk to Anya who is looking down the parapet.  
"How do we get down? you ask.  
Anya scoops you up in her arms and jumps off the roof.  
You don't even have time to scream before a violent impact shakes you. Despite being cradled in Anyas arms the impact is severe and you feel every organ inside your body shift as Anya hits the ground. Still, her long legs had the strength to break the fall gently enough and you get away with just the fear. It was more than fear though, as Anya places you on the ground beside her, your knees buckle under you. You feel the packed dirt under your hands and wonder if your heart will ever beat normally again.  
"Please don't do that again Anya" you whisper with a trembling voice. Anya laughs and drags you up off the ground after her.  
Adrenaline still pumping trough your body you hold Anyas hand and walk close to her. The dark alleyways scare you plenty and you squeeze the revolver in you pocket. Anya walks along humming to herself and giggling as the aftershocks of the fall causes tremors through your body.  
It is hard for anyone who is used to artificial light to know how dark an unlit city can become. What little light exists gets absorbed by walls and the ground, the moon casts long shadows over everything and the alley you walk in feels almost pitch black. Memories of the blackout during the blitz flashes to mind and you almost fear that you'll hear the buzz of bombers in the distance  
To your relief you soon see Anyas home lit by torches along the wall as you enter a long ally. You wish to get out of the darkness and into a house. You feel hungry and if there is a ceremony to be had there are chances that snacks will be present. Suddenly a large figure steps out and blocks the exit of the alley. Backlit by the torches on the walls of Anyas house you can't see the face but you can tell that the shadow is wearing a hood of some kind and is brandishing a large club. A rustling behind you makes you and Anya spin around and see a slight shadow block your other exit. Your insides turns to ice.  
Anya pulls you in close.  
"Lum, stay close to Anya" Anya says, voice hard and edged with fear. The shadow in the dark end of the alley starts to move towards you and Anya. You cock the hammer on your revolver, and you feel you chest pull tight. Your heart starts to beat so hard it hurts. You have never before fired a weapon in anger, hunting you have done, grouse and that deer a few days ago. Never against a human and your revolver feels like a large lump of lead in your pocket.  
"Anya and man, follow or things get complicated." the shadow hisses. Anya shakes her head. The shadow moves forward and you can at least see that it's a eight foot human but not much more than that.  
"We can do this easy or complicated. We would like easy and so does Anya" the voice hisses. Anya tenses up but shakes her head.  
"Leave or Anya will get violent" Anya says, voice almost shaking.  
"Then things get complicated" the voice hisses and the shadow starts to move towards you again. Anya is a skilled fighter, that you know, but she is only one. There is reason to believe that anyone out to jump people in alleyways knows how to fight too. You realize with a burning feeling that you most likely will have to kill someone tonight and you start to shake.  
You try to lift the revolver from your pocket but your hand wont move. Suddenly the shadow backs away and disappears into the dark alley again. You sense what almost feels like static electricity raise the hair on the back of your neck. You and Anya spin around.  
A larger shadow stands behind the one that stepped out to block your way.  
You don't need the faint red outline of her hair to tell that Remisia is the larger shadow. Her rage is palpable in the air and it makes your hair stand on end. The anger radiating from her is terrifying to the degree that you are almost more afraid of Remisia now than you where facing the shadow in the alley.  
You would be assailant spins around, club swinging. Remisia catches the hand, twists and the club goes flying with a sickening snap.  
A massive hand grabs over the unlucky hoodlums face and slams its head into a wall so hard you fear the house might collapse. You either hear a skull or a stone crack.  
"Thiefs and robbers so close to my house?" Remisia says angrily and spits at the ground. Anya pushes you before her towards the leviathan standing in the light and you enter the larger street before the house.  
You and Anya stare at the crumpled form in the street with horror.  
"She is not dead, I don't kill on the night of matrons" Remisia says reassuringly. While you doubt anything could survive such a blow, Remisia is probably one who knows her killing and you are sure as anything that you wont argue the subject with her.  
"Anya, get up and prepare for the ceremony, I've had Ansyri place daggers for you on your bunk" Remisia goes on happily like she saving her daughter and cracking the skull of a hoodlum was an everyday occurrence worthy of little note.  
You start towards the robed figure on the ground but Anya holds you back.  
"She might have a blade and might be awake, Lum stay clear" Anya cautions you. Remembering the warning about hidden threats you feel that it's critical for you and Anya to drag whatever conspiracy or plot against you into the light and you are about to argue when running footsteps of several people echo in the night.  
Anya pulls you behind her and Remisia steps in between Anya and the approaching group.  
A squad of guards clad in wooden lamellar armor and bovine skull masks run into the circle of light from the torches.  
"Who assaulted this woman?" a guard demands in a commandeering voice, gesturing towards the robed figure on the ground. The three other guards level spears at Remisia, Anya and you. Despite only seeing Remisia from behind and mostly in shadow you feel the hair on the back of your neck rise again.  
"We will be taking this woman into our protection" the guard adds meekly. They gather up the lifeless form and beat a hasty retreat into the night. You have read enough thrillers and detective novels to know that either two things are going on;  
A) The guards or government where behind the ambush and sent in backup to bail out their agent before their cover is blown, or  
B) The shadow or an unseen onlooker alerted a nearby guard patrol to an ongoing "assault" to bail her accomplice before you could reveal their identity.  
Either way, the guards where on scene far too quickly for an essentially soundless struggle.  
"Now get inside and ready yourself" Remisia says and heads for the door.  
"How did she know we was in trouble?" you whisper to Anya.  
"Mother is a great warrior of many campaigns. Mother can smell fear in the air." Anya whispers back and pushes you to the house. Given that Inphas can apparently can smell your marital status you somehow believe her.  
You and Anya walk up to her room in silence and once inside Anya shuts and bars the door. She seats herself on the bunk, takes you in her lap and hugs you painfully hard. You bury your face in the safety of her breasts and hug her back. For several minutes Anya rocks you gently back and forth and you slowly feel fear and adrenaline fade away. When the both of you feel calm enough you look at the pile of clothing on the bunk beside you. On top of the neatly folded garbs there are two ceremonial looking daggers, one copper and one bronze, inlaid with fine etchings and writing. Anya gets up and hands you a tunic and a pair op coarse pants. The tunic has thin wooden scales sewn into it making it look like an armor. The scales are far too thin to be of any protection so you guess they must be symbolic.  
Anya unrolls a long embroidered tabard and a gilded rope for herself.  
"Dress up" Anya orders and starts to strip down herself to do the same. You strip down and don the fake armor provided while Anya drapes her tabard over herself and ties it around her waist with the rope. Lacking a belt the pants you wear have a hard time staying up and Anya ties another rope around your waist in place of a belt. Memories from your childhood playing the war of the roses with your friends come to mind wearing this fake wooden armor. Anya, still shaken from the alley confrontation seats herself on the bunk again.  
"Lum, get Anyas sandals from the chest" Anya asks with a slight tremble to her voice.  
You open the chest and after some digging you find a pair of sandals with leather greaves.  
"These?" you ask holding up the sandals. Anya nods and holds out her foot.  
You kneel down before her and take her foot in your hand to put on the sandal. You look up at Anya and with you kneeling before her with her foot in your hand she looks more regal than ever. You give the top of her foot a light kiss before you begin the work with the sandals. You feel a slight tremble in Anya as your lips touch her skin. It's a lot of laces to the sandal and it takes time for you to lace them properly. Done with her left foot, you take her right foot in your hand and gives it a kiss. Anya shudders slightly. You slowly laces her foot and leg up, trying to run your hands as much as possible over her smooth skin as you do so.  
"City not safe for Lum. Anya should have taken Lum and run far away" you hear Anya mumble. You look up at her an see her eyes glitter with tears. You hug her legs and kiss her thigh.  
"I'm safe with you Anya. I would follow you to the edges of the world and end of times" you say and kiss her thigh again. Anya gently strokes your hair.  
"Anya will keep Lum safe, always." Anya says voice still trembling slightly. You continue to place soft kisses all over Anyas knees and thighs while Anya gently scratches your head. Anya closes her eyes and her breathing gets deeper.  
"Lum, make Anya feel good again, make Anya forget the shadow" Anya says and parts her legs. Fire rises to your cheeks and your body starts to burn inside. You are Anyas and you are beholden to worship and pleasure her in any way she demands. You oblige her wish. Kissing your way up her inner thigh, you lift her tabard dress and continues underneath. The room is dark in the night, only lit by tallow candles and underneath her tabard you only see a faint outline of a silver triangle.  
You don't need to see, you know Anya by touch and smell. Her musky scent fills your nostrils and you place a long kiss over her puffy pussy lips. Anya stifles a moan. Licking slowly you pleasure her, not the fast lust fueled teasing and flicking of previous nights, this is a sensual confirmation of your devotion to her.  
Her strong thighs pressing against your head, her musky nectar, her hand on your head and her muffled moans places you in a trance like state where the only thing important in this world is Anya and you pleasing her. Slowly your tongue works every fold and you gently kiss her hard clit again and again.  
Your hands stroke her wide hips and feel every tensing in her lower body. Anya whispers your name, her voice now trembling in pleasure rather than fear.  
Anya runs her fingers through your hair and you hear her increasing struggle to keep her moans and gasps silent.  
The taste of Anya intoxicates your mind and you only want to pleasure Anya more. Anya bucks her hips slightly and shivers rub through her body.  
Greedily you lap up her juices, insert your tongue into her and lick her inside walls and massage her vulva with your lips.  
Anya places a hand on the back of your head and draws you in so hard you can barely breathe.  
"Lum, Anya want-" is as far Anya gets with a request before a loud knocking is heard on the door. Both you and Anya jump to your feet startled by the sudden noise.  
"Anya, the ceremony is almost at hand, hurry up!" a voice calls.  
You and Anya look at each other with embarrassment clearly written across your faces.  
"A-Anya is ready, just a moment." Anya says doing her best to sound normal. You wipe your face with the collar of your shirt while Anya smoothens her dress. She hands you the copper dagger and grabs your hand. She leads you downstairs and you enter the large living room. The room is filled with people. You see Remisia sitting on her dais, strangers Anyas sisters, and Argilis with her new partner. Everyone is clearly dressed in festive clothes and jewelry. Agrilis wears the same type of tabard dress as Anya but has chosen to wear her metal breastplate outside it as if to remind everyone that she is a high ranking soldier. There are several one and three liners and even some five lined ladies present with the one and three liners seemingly forming an entourage around Argilis or the office lady. Argilis partner is a boy no older than sixteen, has the same copper skin and dark hair as Remisias husband and wears the same kind of ceremonial armor as you do. He looks absolutely terrified and clutches a copper dagger like yours to his chest. Argilis holds him close to her with an iron grip over his shoulders and as soon as you and Anya enter the room, she locks eyes with Anya and you can almost see green sparks shoot between them over the room.  
Anya takes a spot facing Argilis across the room and clutches you to her closely.  
The hostility is palpable but the rest of the attendees at this event doesn't notice or care. With everyone present, people start to mingle about around Argilis and Anya.  
People walk up to Anya and excitedly ask her where, when and how she caught you or if there are more of these pale men milling about in the forest. The five lined office lady walks up to Anya and laughs about how she has already seen several for young girls asking about becoming hunters the day after Anya paraded you to through the city. The rumor must have spread lightning quick. A lady wearing some kind of ceremonial armor that oozes captains rank or above tells Anya that they have seen an increased rate of women going out into the forests on their own with spears and provisions for days, in hope to repeat Anyas deed.  
Again and again Anya goes over the events when meeting you and shows the line on your cheek where her spear scarred you. The black resin has left a residual grey line across your face it seems. Anya conveniently omits the detail where you knocked her unconscious and begins her retelling of the event with her finding your camp and besting you easily. Feeling that this is Anyas special night you keep quiet about some of the details Anya glosses over. You can remind her some later time and maybe receive some reassertion of her dominance as a reward if you're lucky.  
You can't hear much of what Argilis but what you can hear is that she also is busy having to explain her deeds that won her a man, something about her leading a charge that finally took a fortified position or something to that extent.  
A group of girls slightly younger than Anya stands and stare at Argilis with admiration and assurances that one day they will also become a pack leader and win a man with a heroic charge or deed.  
Suddenly a loud bang is heard as Remisia slams a chalice against the armrest on her chair.  
All fall silent and line the wall. A large space is left empty at the far end of the large stone table, opposite Remisia on her dais.  
"Today we witness the TWO of my daughters taking and claiming their man" Remisia announces. Special emphasis is placed on the word two as this is obviously something of note. Maybe that is why so many high caste women attends you wonder.  
Remisia gestures to Anya. Anya leads you to the empty space before the table. The crowd falls deadly silent. Remisia makes a chopping motion with her hand.  
"Lum, give dagger" Anya says in english holding out her hand. You hand her the dagger hilt first, not knowing what is going on in the slightest. As you hand over the dagger the crowd draws their breath and excited whispers are heard throughout the room.  
Anya throws your dagger to the ground and gently pushes you backward to the table. Suddenly with a lightning quick movement Anya cuts the rope on your pants and they fall to the floor, leaving you naked waist down. This in itself would have been bad but since you are still sporting an erection from the events upstairs it's a catastrophe. Your face burns red and you try to cover yourself with your hands but Anya catches your wrists and forces you down on your back on the table. Climbing up and straddling you, you feel Anyas warm pussy press up against your dick and a pleasure shoots up through your body, only increasing the shame, fear and confusion you feel. Anya places one hand on your chest, strokes your cheek and lips with her other hand and she gently grinds herself against your dick. The familiar sensation of her vulva parting slightly and sliding across your shaft shoots through you like electricity and despite you almost crying in shame your dick goes even harder. You try to push her off but it's no use. She continues to hold you down and run her fingers across your face and lips. Anya lifts her hip slightly, bites her lower lip and guides you into her. Lowering her hips she takes you all to the base. She gently rides you and rocks her hips back and forth. You close your eyes and try not to cry from humiliation while waves of pleasure assault you with every movement Anya makes.  
Her wet insides squeeze you tight and create a suction on your dick that makes your mind reel every time Anya raises her hips.  
The room is deadly silent, except for you whimpering and Anyas labored breath.  
Despite your tears and embarrassment you feel a climax build within you. You begin to twitch inside Anya and she increases her pace.  
She grabs you by the shoulders and with a final downward stroke of her hip you explode inside her, releasing several spurts of cum. Anya twitches slightly and her insides squeeze every drop from you.  
She climbs off you and you open your eyes. Anya reaches between her legs and when she pulls out her fingers are coated with your cum. She spreads her fingers forming strings and holds it up for everyone to see. Remisia nods approvingly and you hear excited whispers from the crowd. Anya drags you off the table and to her previous spot by the wall. Tears and humiliation burning in your face you drag your pants back up and hold it in place with your hand. You are about to open your mouth to say, ask or scream something at Anya but she places her finger over your lips silencing you. Remisia gestures toward Argilis and you suddenly see the boy she's holding is looking at you rigid with fear. Anya pushes him to the empty space before the table and takes her place in front of him.  
Remisia chops with her hand again and you are startled to see the boy lunge at Argilis with full force. She lazily deflects his blade and sends him stumbling past her. The boy is surprisingly quick on his feet and lashes around with his dagger but Argilis effortlessly parries and sends him flying to the floor, dagger flying. Why the boy would even try to attack Argilis you don't know, she has a larger blade, armor, two and a half feet and more than trice his weigh against his small dagger, skinny arms and fake lamellar scales. Looking at Argilis you see a hunger burning in her eyes as she looks at the boy scrambling for his blade. The boy finds his blade and lunges directly towards Argilis guts.  
Again his blade is deflected and his motion carries him crashing into Argilis raised knee. The boy gasps for air but continues to fight with fast slashes and stabs. It becomes painfully clear that Argilis is a master with the blade and that she's just toying with the boy. With a riposte Argilis scratches a line across the boys cheek that begins to bead with blood. Despite that he continues his attacks until a fast kick sends his dagger flying and him sprawling over the table. Argilis quickly cuts the rope of his pants and the boy begins to sob but tries to get up to continue the fight.  
Argilis jumps up on the table and pins him down with a knee on his chest. She begins to massage his dick.  
The boy gives up his struggle and covers his face with his hands. With one hand Argilis pulls on the strap holding her breastplate in place and tosses it to the ground with a clang. She grabs his hand and pushes it in under her tabard dress directly to her breast. The boy has ceased all resistance and lets Argilis knead her breast with his hand in hers. Argilis eyes burns with hunger and slowly the boy goes erect. As soon as he is fully erect Argilis straddles him and plunge him deep inside her. She pumps her hips hard and fast on top of him and wet slapping noises fill the room. The crowd is silent and you find the scene so surreal that you forget your embarrassment and shame.  
After a while the boy whimpers and Argilis slams her hips down biting her lower lip. She climbs off the sobbing boy and just like Anya shows the room her fingers covered in the boys cum. Again Remisia nods approvingly. The room erupts in cheers. Argilia scoops the boy up in her arms, nuzzles his face and whisper a few words to him before setting him down. The man who sat by Remisias side appear and take his hand.  
"Go help Pon" Anya whispers in your ear and gives you a gentle shove. Pon, not father. Do Inphas not have any word for Father, you have never heard Anya mention father except in English. You must ask Anya later. You see Anyas friends, the two guards from the gate break free from the crowd, run up to Anya and the both of them gives Anya big hugs while laughing. This must be a big event for Inphas but you don't like it nor do you understand the significance.  
You walk up to the man and he leads you out the smaller door in the room.  
Inside a large kitchen you see a fireplace burning with a large copper pot hanging over the fire. There are several large tables loaded with plates of food. Bread, meat both roasted and dried, vegetables, fruits and large pots of stew on plates with large cups stacked beside them. There are several small barrels and skins of wine stacked in a corner too. A feast in the waiting. You remembering your hunger feel your mouth water.  
"Carry this to the large table" the man orders with a tired voice.  
You, the boy and the man carries what feel like several platoons worth of food out and place it on the big table. All the women pack close around the table with Remisia sitting before her dais at the short side of the table alone looking like a queen.  
There is no room beside Anya and you wonder where your seat is. The man grabs your shoulder and points to the kitchen. Inside you see that on a table he has placed tray with portions of the all the food and a wine skin. While it looks small you realize that it's more than enough for three. The man pulls up three chairs. You, the boy and the man sit down and silently start with the meal.  
"I'm Pon, Remisias man" the Pon says.  
"I'm Lum, I'm married to Anya" you say.  
"I was Litzki but now I'm Klem" the boy says with a sullen voice. You suddenly remember that you have another name back home but you also feel that as long as you're with Anya, you'd rather be Lum.  
"What happened out there?" you ask, still embarrassed and more than slightly confused over the whole event.  
"You are belong far from here, I could tell that from your clothes and skin the moment you stepped through your door. I'll explain" says Pon.  
"Inphas are warriors all and tradition say that Inphas should take their man in battle, that an enslaved man brings great fortune. Usually they fought between tribes for men or raided villages but when the queen long ago unified the tribes and founded a city things had to change. The queen made it so heroics earned you a man. Our villages banded together and formed armies and the wars where the only source of foreign men. Since Inphas stopped fighting each other their numbers grew rapidly. Men by conquest became rare. Tradition became that a battle is held the night of matrons. If the man draws blood he is free to run until dawn. If not, your mistress claims you on the battlefield and you are hers forever. When you handed Anya your blade you willingly handed her your chance to freedom." Pon explains to you.  
So Anya dragged you through a ceremony you had no idea about. Godly retribution for you dragging Anya through your little wedding.  
You aslo wonder why you would ever want to run from Anya but you remember the harsh treatment Remisia gave Pon before and you hold your tongue.  
"Why must so many attend? Inphas can smell if you eh, belong to someone?" you ask reddening at the thought.  
"Yes but all women leave a scent. I was a married man when I was conquered by Marisa right on the battlefield. She fought naked and by the time she was done with me she had killed three of my comrades trying to save me and had two arrows sticking from her.  
Her whole army witnessed it which is why no one would try to take me before Marisias scent replaced my old wife. That is why there must be witnesses." Pon says with a bitter smile when remembering the event.  
"It's more of a coming of age ceremony for lucky girls these days, I suspect Anya claimed you before you ever entered the city" Pon adds.  
"I was given as tribute to the queen on my twentieth harvest" Klem says in sad voice.  
"Mother said that when I was young the giants of the forest began to wear silver armor and spears so strong we could not oppose them. The village elders now pay every first born son and much of our crops and animals so that the villages may still be free." Klem says as a tear trickle down his cheek. You start to feel really bad for him.  
You hear shouts from the living room and you carry out several more casks of wine. As you reach between a pair of tipsy women your butt cheeks are pinched and groped repeatedly and several of the large women giggle. You close your eyes and try to bear with it in a dignified manner. Over the evening, the events of the alley are slowly forgotten as you carry out more wine and endure more pinches and lewd suggestions.  
Suddenly while you sit and discuss your homeland to Klem and Pon who are amazed at your stories, a clearly drunk Anya storms into the kitchen.  
"Lum, Anya aches for seeeed!" Anay bellows wile swaying worryingly. She slings you across her shoulders and as she enters the large room you hear loud cheers and whistles directed at her and you. You are afraid that you will once again be stripped naked in front of the crowd but Anya waves at the crowd and proceeds upstairs.  
As she enters her room she tosses you on the bunk and crawls on top of you.  
"Lum, Anya will milk you dryyy..." she whispers and lowers herself on top of you.  
There you lie pinned under Anya for a few moments before she begins to snore loudly. While you would not have minded sex with her under any normal circumstances you are grateful that she fell asleep in the nick of time. She can be rough enough sober and when dead drunk and filled with lust you fear several broken bones and a pelvis turned to dust.  
Not being able to move under her, there is little choice for you but to wait until sleep finds you as well. 

Anya shakes you awake. Your body is sore from Anya sleeping on top of you and you groan. You open your eyes to see the sun shining in through the window. Anya drags you off the bed and strips you of your ceremonial garbs from yesterday. You slowly dress in your uniform and stretch the pains of the night away. Anya is already dressed in her fine loincloth and the breast bindings that shows off some sideboob.  
"Lum get ready, we must go and meet Nati and Enyri at the drinking house!" Anya chirps as happy as a clam at high water. How anything can go from dead drunk to so full of energy without passing the hungover phase is a mystery to you. Anya drags you behind her down the stairs and out into the sunlight. Dragging you along she buys some kind of sweet fruit and a loaf of bread for you to eat while humming happily to herself. The streets are packed with people and with the sun up you don't fear attacks from shadows in the alleys which Anya lead you through.  
Arriving at the drinking house Anya leads you to the small courtyard where Nati and Enyri sits waiting for her. Today must be a day off since they are wearing the same kind of revealing bindings as Anya and short loincloths instead of armor and masks. They wave happily when they see Anya and you approach and gesture towards a bench beside a small table loaded with four cups of wine.  
Anya walks over to the bench and seats herself while Nati and Enyri seats themselves on either side of her. Any drags you into her lap while her friends look on with both envy and happiness for their friends great fortune.  
Despite that you are surrounded by sideboob you are more than happy with just Anyas and the close attention the girls pay you make you nervous.  
"Anya, Nati and Enyri always come here to drink the day after matrons night" Anya explains happily. Her friends nod in agreement.  
You are subjected to having your head patted and cheeks pinched by both the Nati and Enyri at the same time and with Anya hugging your arms to your sides there is little you can do but endure.  
"Nati heard that your man fell from the moon" the white hair girl says. You will ask Anya if you can get a slightly less cheesy name sometimes later.  
"Enyri heard the he came down from the white peaks of the sky mountain" the red headed girl says.  
"Lum came with the thunderbirds" Anya says in a hushed voice. Natis and Enyris eyes goes wide.  
"Is it true?" Enyri asks in an excited but hushed voice.  
"Lum, you tell them" Anya says and looks at you expectantly.  
You tell them the whole story about you being an officer, going on a mission, the aeroplane and its true nature, the storm and the crash. Again there are doubts about your credentials as an officer despite the badges on your cuff links and shoulders.  
"-and then after seeing Anya I took my rifle and-" You are abruptly silenced as Anya forces a mug of wine to your lips making you take a big gulp.  
"And then Anya fought Lum and took him whole eventually." Anya says as she picks up your story with a nervous laughter.  
"Is what pup leader Risti told us true?" Nati asks with an expectant voice.  
"Yes! Anya can feel it twitch and Anya can make his eyes go white now" Anya says happily. You feel a blush creep up you cheeks.  
"Did you trap and tame him like Risti said. Does it work?" Enyri asks with voice full of excitement.  
"It worked sure as sunrise!" Anya says laughing. She then goes into detail about the waterfall incident, your various weaknesses and the pleasure of being cummed inside. Nati and Enyri giggles and ask far too many questions and you feel yourself go beet red blushing.  
You are determined that these two will at least hear about the time you bested her during sparring and maybe even about how you knocked her cold during your first meeting if Anya does not stop describing your dick to them.  
Enyris and Nati sits and listen intently with wide eyes.  
"And Lums world has so many men they can use them in battle? Inpha must conquer them so Nati can get a man too!" Nati exclaims after Anyas long explication on the superiority of your fingers compared to hers when it comes to pleasuring her.  
One thing is certain, Inphas are quite lax about the subject of sex.  
"Eh, England and German have ways of war that is troublesome" Anya says with an uneasy voice.  
"Like how?" Enyri demands.  
"With my rifle I can punch a hole in through any breastplate out to three hundred yards and maybe six hundred yards if I'm good." you say quickly, hoping to distract them from discussing your private parts any more.  
"That is dung black as night right there" Enyri scoffs. Nati just laughs.  
Anya has an uncomfortable look on her face.  
"Right, Anya?" Enyri asks Anya with a sting of doubt in her voice.  
"Lum might speak the truth. Anya was going to tell the queen but have not had the time" Anya admits slowly.  
Enyri and Nati looks at you incredulously.  
"It is true and with my rifle I can prove it" you say with confidence.  
"Anya, we will tell our captain, she will get the proper clearance" Enyri says, voice serious.  
"Even if Lum is spilling dung like an ox, the queen would want to know about where Lum came from" Nati adds.  
"But not now, Nati was cleaning the bunk house when she heard the captain and the war leader speak about men" Nati says quickly. Nati and Enyri brings the heads close to Anyas like a big secret is about to be shared.  
"The war leader said that a man licking you like a dog would clean itself is almost better than riding him" Nati whispers in a conspiratorial manner. Under their dark skin it's hard to tell but you can see that all three of them blushes hard with Anya being the worst. Anya gives a small nervous nod.  
"It is true" she whispers with a giggle.  
Enyri and Nati both cover their mouth with their hands and stare at Anya with wide eyes. The come whispered questions in a great torrent. Most of the noon is spent with Anya and her friends in whispers and giggles discussing this taboo and how great is to have a someones face between your legs. Soon you don't even have the decency to be embarrassed but takes mental notes on what Anya thinks and likes and eventually you even participate in their discussion telling about the limitations and possibilities of your skills.  
Around lunchtime you have to break up your little discussion and you hope Anya doesn't follow up on their latest idea; Advanced Man Taming classes with live demonstrations for the warrior pups.  
Anya drags you off the bench and leaves a copper coin on the table.  
While heading home Anya picks up more bread and vegetables from the merchants you pass, still paying with canteen money. You feel it was a good idea to sell the canteen so that Anya can provide some income for the house since you kind of got her fired.  
"So what's the plan for the rest of today?" you ask.  
"Anya must talk with mother about house and finance. Lum will help Pon in kitchen" Anya answers. Kitchen? You have barely ever set foot in a kitchen, the cooks and maids back home handled that area for you. It might be a fun experience for now but you will definitely arrange so that neither you nor Anya will have to do any household duty when you get a family.  
"Pon? Do you never call him father?" you ask, curious about the subject.  
"Lums world is strange with subject of father. Mother carried Anya, built Anya and gave birth to Anya. Mother only used Pon for seed" Anya says. She does have a point in that the man have a blessedly short and pleasant part to play in the whole child creation process.  
"Still, my seed will be needed for any children right? Doesn't that mean that I play some part?" you ask for the sake of arguing.  
"Lum belong to Anya. Lums seed belong to Anya. Anya does not need to ask for Lums seed." Anya says with a voice and look that tells you that the debate is over. You feel yourself shrink in your boots. Anya does not need to ask for your seed, she will take it as she see fit, that you know.  
"But Anya want Lum to be happy. Anya do not want be harsh with Lum" she adds with a soft voice when she see your reaction to her stern voice. You put your arm around her waist and snuggle up close to her as you walk.  
"Lum belongs to Anya, body and soul" you reassure her. Anya hugs you close and you walk home, happy in each others arms.  
Back home Anya sends you to the kitchen with the food while she takes a seat by the table with the rest of her sisters.  
In the kitchen the large copper cauldron is boiling and you see Pon and Klem by a table cutting vegetables and meat with bronze knives.  
The fire you notice is fueled by coal and the smell of it reminds you of home. You remember the smell of burning coal in London, the coal wagon and the fireplace in your fathers study, always burning with coal.  
You dump your groceries on the table and begin cutting some sort of root. The knife is hopelessly dull so you fetch your bayonet and goes to work, your blade still holding a good edge despite the use it has seen over the last few days.  
Pon and Klem stare at your bayonet as you do your best to make even slices.  
"That blade is much to fine for kitchen use" Pon remarks.  
"It's only a bayonet, a common soldiers issue back home" you reply, handing Pon the blade.  
"It is very likely one of the finest works of bone in the city" Pon says, closely examining the steel.  
"It's not bone, it is metal just like the knife before you albeit of a different type" you correct him.  
"Metal or bone matters little, it is the business of the high sisters and their workers. They would be very keen to get their hands on the secrets to making such a fine blade" Pon says with a cautious voice.  
"How come the queen allows the church to control the metal given that it is the key to Inpha dominance? What prevents the church from taking power?" you ask, your previous musings about the power structure bubbling to surface.  
"Matters divine such as the bone of thunderbirds are strictly the domain of the church. Matters of politics such as family falls on the queen. The church control the metal but the queen control the men. She who control the men control the families and thus holds the real power." Pon explains and hands you the bayonet so that work with the food can continue.  
"Still, the church must hold much power if they manufacture all weapons needed for the war" you say.  
"Very much so. When the thunderbirds came, the small cult of the thunder god grew so in power that they could oust the sun worshipers from the temple and gain control of the metal workers guild. Some say they aim for the queens power too." Pon says in a conspiratorial manner.  
You open your mouth to ask more but Pon interrupts you.  
"Lum, these are not healthy things to be talking about. We are men so people listen little to what we say but it's not wise to be heard discussing these matters" Pon says and gives you a serious look. Given how authoritarian societies tend to deal with power struggles you believe him.  
You turn your attention to Klem who despite the events of yesterday looks somewhat content.  
"You look better today Klem. How do you feel?" you ask carefully.  
"Argilis does eh is... kind to me" Klem says, a wild blush creeping up his face. You suppress a chuckle.  
"Yes, Remisias daughters are eh, kind" you say trying not to laugh.  
"Be aware that a gentle wolf is still a wolf" Pon warns and rubs his cheek where Remisia hit him yesterday.  
"Remisia can be kind or even caring at times but when she gets excited or angry her innate violence boils over easily. All Inphas have a wolf inside them." He continues. You are about to protest but remembering how Anya looked at you when you struck her during sparring you suddenly wonder if he's right. No, Anya has a cruel wolf inside her but it preys upon you in a way you are more than happy to indulge.  
"Anya can have a cruel streak at times" you admit smiling to yourself.  
"Lum, how are the women of your world? If you can make blade such as yours, the forest giants cannot conquer you, right?" Klem asks with boyish curiosity.  
Feeling that this audience is more susceptible to stories about gender roles back home you tell them about how a proper lady should behave and how a true man acts.  
Pon just laughs but Klem looks at you with eyes wide in admiration. He puffs up his chest the best he can in an attempt to be as manly and chivalrous as possible. You suddenly hope that this doesn't end in a too harsh correctional adjustment from Argilis later tonight.  
With the food ready you and Pon carry the heavy cauldron with stew out to the table. Klem carries wooden bowls and spoons on a tray and hands them out to all ten females seated at the table.  
With a large ladle you serve each of them in turn and at last Klem, Pon and yourself.  
Argilis and Anya seems to have one of their stare contests and green sparks one again fly over room. Marisia and Pon eats in silence while the rest of the girls chat and laugh like it's business as usual.  
"Argilis and Anya, go and make offerings in the temple. New moon is tonight and you have both a man." Remilia says while eating mouthfuls of stew.  
"But mom, Anya-" Anya tries before a look silences her. Anya mutters something to herself but nods.  
You eat the stew in silence and as soon as Anya is finished with hers she yanks you up from the table while grumbling.  
Argilis jumps up, grabs Klem and hurries after you as Anya drags you through the door. Anya and Argilis walk side by side staring death at each other, you and Klem being dragged behind almost like dolls, stumbling and running to keep up. The city around you rush past by but you think that you know the way up to the boulevard leading up to the large temple and plaza by now.  
Approaching the temple Anya dumps you off at the base of the stairs. Klem is dumped beside you.  
"Wait here" is the only order given and so you do.  
Looking up at the temple you see the B-17 replica from below far above you. You guess that the ziggurat is close to 150 feet tall and that the model on top of it is a fair bit larger than the real deal. The temple is like all other buildings made from odd stones cut into shape. The massive number of stones needed and weights hauled needed to build this pyramid must have taken incredible amounts of labor to complete, you wonder how many years it took the Inpha to make it. Then you spot a woman walking down the stairs from the temple and the size of her and her arms rival a large grizzly bear. A part of you believes that it took about a dozen Inphas and the better part of an afternoon to finish the ziggurat while the most of the time was spent on the model on top of it. Klem walks up to you as you study the model from below.  
"That is the king of thunderbirds" he says with a reverent voice.  
"That is a model of the B-17 Flying Fortress. I have seen them in great numbers back home" you say.  
"A flying fortress? Is such a thing possible? Have you spoken to it?" Klem asks excitedly. You try to answer his steady stream of questions as good as you can and try to puncture the myth about the thunder birds or gods. Klem is greatly thrilled by the idea of flying machines of war, over and over he repeats how if the villages had them, they would not be enslaved by forest giants.  
Time passes and as you go into great detail about air war when suddenly Argilis appears, scoops up Klem and disappears in large strides. There is no sign of Anya.  
You wait a moment when suddenly you feel the sandstorm around roar. There is major trouble in the air. The office lady said to never leave Anyas side and now you feel that you messed up bad.  
From the temple a large Inpha walks, hair in a mohawk and wearing some kind of feather adorned robe. She slowly descends the stairs, eyes locked on you. You look at her suspiciously, a large lump of ice forming in your gut. The woman stops briefly in front of you and bends down. You shy back a little.  
"Second plateau, entrance left of the stairs, go" she says with a quiet voice before moving along like she hadn't seen you.  
You really don't want to enter an unknown building alone but if Anya is in there you wouldn't stop even if the temple was a gateway to hell itself.  
You think quickly. You sneak your revolver into the shaft of your high officers boots since the Inphas rarely wear footwear and almost never cover their legs they might not search your legs should they capture you.  
You start up the long stairs with determined steps, if they have Anya you will get her free at any cost.  
Reaching the second plateau a woman in the same sort of feathered robe waves you towards a portal into the temple. You cautiously walk towards her. She turns around, grabs a torch and disappears inside. You follow close behind her and try to remember every junction and turn you pass.  
The small corridors are tall enough to accommodate an Inpha but it's barely wide enough for one. The only lights are from the occasional torches on the wall, flickering in a constant wind that draws through the tunnel.  
After a while you enter a wide hall, richly lit by braziers and torches. The woman in front of you points towards a door and you enter.  
Inside there is a stone room, walls richly carved with symbols and pictures and lit candles line the wall. In the middle of the room there is an ornate table set for a feast with wine, meat, bread, ripe fruits and pots of nice smelling sauces.  
The whole scene could have been inviting if it weren't for the four human skulls that line a small alcove cut into the back wall of the room.  
"Sit" a voice from behind the door orders you. You jump around and see an young woman clad in a white robe, feathers made from gold and iron. Whoever this is, she's a high ranking member of the church. You back away from her slowly.  
Her face is stunningly beautiful, her hair is almost touching the floor, platinum white. The thin robes drape over her body in a way that insinuates smooth curves and you see silhouettes of dark nipples through the white fabric.  
"Sit" she orders you, pointing to a chair by the table. You take your seat, eyeing her suspiciously.  
"Eat" she orders you. You don't move an inch.  
"If we wanted you dead, drugged or captured we wouldn't waste a crumb on you. We want your cooperation." She says in a calm voice trying to hide irritation. She is not used to being disobeyed, that much is clear. You know that she is right, they would not need to waste good food on you if they wanted you any harm. You take a piece of bread and nibble it carefully.  
"You are the first man to enter this temple and the first man to get this close let alone speak to me, you should be honored" the woman says with an arrogant voice. You remain silent.  
"I'm the First Sister and the chosen of the thunder god itself" she continues. You continue to eye her suspiciously.  
"The god of thunder requires your full devotion and cooperation, man" she says spitting the last word, clearly irritated over your lack of reaction to her words.  
"What do you want and where is Anya?" you ask with a low but hard voice.  
"The god of thunder need you to announce your divine origin as a man granted us from the skies as a reward for our devotion." she says with a pious voice. You raise an eyebrow. That was not really what you had expected.  
"And if I do that you release Anya?" you say ask a slight hope that this might end peacefully. The First Sister gets a troubled look on her face.  
"That girl is troublesome. We wasn't ready for our godly gifts just yet but she brought you to the city and paraded you around the streets spreading heretical rumors" she says with an irritated voice.  
"There has been others like me?" you ask excitedly. If they know about you arriving on a crashed plane there must have been other survivors since there where no witnesses to your crash. The First Sister glances quickly to her side and your guts freeze to ice again. It's just a glance but you know exactly what she looked at. The skulls. Too small to be Inphan.  
"You killed them, didn't you?" you ask, voice dark with a rage building inside you. Things not going to plan the First Sister drops her mask of pious dignity and lets her irritation shine through.  
"They and you included are too dangerous to let run loose. Rumors spread even if you are kept imprisoned." She explains with a clearly irritated voice. No matter, what's done is done. You must focus on saving Anya, retribution comes later. You force the rage down.  
"So if I play your charade you let Anya go?" you ask.  
"The bone and skin of birds are divine, they must be blessed and overseen by our sisters before they can be used by the people." the First Sister goes on like she didn't hear you.  
"You know who I am, that I don't believe steel and aluminum is divine" you say, irritated over the veil of piousness the First Sister tries to hide behind. The high sister reaches into a pouch and tosses something onto the table. As it hits the table something jingles and falls out. A small cog rolls over to you.  
You pick it up and look at the object. It's an instrument from an aeroplane cockpit, smashed and bent. The glass has been shattered, the arms bent out of shape and the back is cracked open revealing the springs and wheels inside.  
"Do you know what this is?" the First Sister asks, voice sharp.  
"A chronometer from an aeroplane from the looks of it" you say blankly.  
"Out there is a world, your world, where these things are made. You can make metal fly, store fire in small boxes and effortlessly make better blades than the best smith in the city" the First Sister says, eyes burning.  
"And this connects to me and Anya how?" you ask.  
"We are working on how to bring more men of your world here and with them the knowledge how to make these things. If we succeed we will elevate Inpha to the skies, to take the world that is rightfully ours" she says, passion burning in her eyes and voice.  
"So why did you kill those men, they where good men all" you say, gesturing to the skulls in the wall.  
"When we found them they could not speak to us. If they had learnt how to speak the same trouble that you cause would have been upon us earlier when we where even weaker" the First Sister says like it justified killing them.  
"But isn't that what you want, our world to come in contact with your world so that you might gain technology?" you ask, confused at the grand plan at work.  
"When a strong society makes contact with a weak society only one things happen. We took the villages and your society would take our entire world. The contact must be on our terms and the men we bring in must be under our control. That's where you come in. We need you to proclaim yourself and anyone like you as divine." She says.  
You suddenly realize what she's been skirting around. They plan to abduct men here somehow, declare them divine and thus outside the queens reach, undermining her power. Then when the time is ripe, they seize power and bring in the technology of smelting and metal working.  
You realize that you don't care about the Inphan politics, all you care for is Anya.  
"If I play along, will you release Anya?" you ask.  
"Anya is guilty of heresy and must be dealt with accordingly." the First Sister says gravely. You feel the ice inside you melt and be replaced with a burning rage.  
"It was I who said everything, Anya just repeated what I told her" you hiss.  
"No, she already signed a confession where she admits that she worships the false god, that she stole a divine man and that she has hidden the location of a dead thunderbird" the First Sister says with a heavy voice like that of a priest recounting the sins of a condemned criminal.  
"How did you get her to sign that. If you have hurt her..." you hiss trough clenched teeth. The rage inside you is close to bubbling over, the urge to hurt the First Sister almost uncontrollable. The First Sister chuckles slightly.  
"Oh no, we are not that unpleasant and Inphas doesn't yield to pain in any case. She signed the confession when we threatened you" she says with a happy voice. The rage inside you goes past boiling, past murderous insanity and into a state where you start to think calm and clearly with the only express goal to ruin everything the First Sister loves and holds dear before her eyes.  
"Listen, you must forget about that silly girl" the First Sister says in a calm and placating voice. She walks over to you bends down face to face with you and places her palms on your thighs.  
"Anya is just one girl. If you declare yourself divine, you belong to all the high sisters. We are many sisters who needs the attention only a man can give. Only you can give." she says, her voice a whisper towards the end and her lips brushing up against yours with the last word.  
You uppercut her with all your strength, your rage flashing back to murderous for a moment. Your hand hurts for a second before your body suddenly explodes with pain. The First Sister walloped you right in your gut sending you flying to the floor. You writhe on the floor gasping for breath. You glimpse the high sister wipe a trickle of blood from her lip where she bit it when you punched her.  
"Sacrificing Anya AND her dog to the thunder god while proceeding as first planned was our second option" the First Sister hisses. She spits a bloody glob at you and storms out the room slamming the door behind her.  
A heavy bar slides in place behind the door.  
You feel that you messed up really, really bad this time. You drag yourself to your feet again and shamble over to the table.  
Sweeping a clear space before you, you empty your pockets and take stock of what you have. It's not much. You have a revolver with six bullets, fire steel and a handful of bullets from your rifle. Your mind races. You can't get through the door and even if you could, six bullets is not enough to go on a rampage looking for Anya.  
A plan forms in your mind. It's a terrible long shot but your only hope. Your fire steel is the U.S aviation survival issue with a magnesium block attached. You have some useless cartridges for a rifle. Tearing a piece of your pant leg you pull the bullets and pour the gunpowder into your piece of cloth. You the busy yourself with scraping as much as possible of the magnesium block onto the gunpowder, mixing the occasionally. Time passes and soon you have more than half the block powdered and mixed with the gunpowder. You tie your bundle together.  
Now there is little you can do but wait and hope.

You don't know how long you wait and thoughts start to run in your head. Who ratted on Anya? Was it Argilis? Was it one of her friends? There was dozens of people at her ceremony, it could have been anyone. Whoever it was, that person will get a visit from you and your rifle.  
Will your plan work? If it does not and you somehow survive without Anya you swear that it will be your life mission to bring in an expeditionary force and enslaving the lot of them, to grind these savage heathens pride into the dirt. Most of all you fantasize about somehow bringing in Bomber Command and truly show what fury their "thunder gods" can bring.  
Eventually you hear the bar over the door removed and the door swings open. Two particularly large Inphas clad in their feathered robes enter. One carries a spear the other one carries ropes. Both have fearsome looking cudgels.  
The calm and collected fury inside you tells you that this is not the time to fight. You slowly get up and hold your hands before you. The guard with the ropes tie your wrists together in front of you and places a loop around your neck like a leash.  
That this church is not in the prisoner taking business is clear, no one has even attempted to search you and to tie your hands in front of you is amateurs work as well.  
You are brusquely yanked forward and with one guard in front of you and another behind you there is little you can do but to follow along.  
Your plan cannot go into motion before you know where Anya is. You are led through the wide hallway, up winding stairs, through another hallway and narrow corridors. Eventually when you exit the temple you are on the third plateau of the stepped pyramid, the model aeroplane above you.  
The entire ziggurat is lit by braziers from base to the top and you see a large mass of people below you, lit by braziers along the boulevard.  
In front of you there is a large stone altar with someone tied to it. Anya. To see Anya tied spread eagle on the stone makes your rage almost uncontrollable and you try to run up to her. The guard yanks on your rope around your neck pulling you back.  
"Wait for your turn, dog" she hisses.  
She drags you to the left side of the altar while the other guard takes up position opposite you to the right. You breathe deeply. A brazier is just a few yards to your side. Your plan is still possible.  
Anya has her eyes closed and breathes calmly, like she's ready to face death. You don't call out to her, things will be easier if she remains quiet.  
Above you on the stairs leading up to the wooden plane you see the First Sister stand, hands raised to the sky and chanting.  
You force down an urge to draw your gun and end her right there. A woman dressed in a black robe, bird skull mask with a large beak made from bronze and aluminum feathers emerges from the same door you came through. She carries a large curved dagger made from steel. The executioner.  
"Tonight we witness the sacrifice of one who threaten our very existence by enraging the god of thunder with heresy!" the First Sister bellows from her elevated position.  
You notice commotion down in the crowd. The royal guard that escorted the queen has formed a line at the base of the stairs preventing a group of armored warriors from going up. There is no violence yet but by the sound of them, it's not far away. Anyas comrades trying to save her. You see the queen standing at the base of the stairs in front of her guards looking up at you. Her face is unreadable due to distance and her white skull like face paint.  
You draw your eyes away from them and focus on the scene in front of you. The executioner has taken up position before Anya and raises her dagger to the sky while the First Sister read out Anyas crimes. Time for action.  
You are a dog, a mad dog, Anyas mad dog. You'd rather see the world burn than let any harm fall upon her and you would gladly burn the world if it meant you could save Anya.  
You pull on the rope causing your guard to yank on it sharply. You stumble to one knee. While stumbling you manage to fish your small bomb from a pocket. The brazier is seven yards away from you and it's very hard to trow properly with your hands tied. On the other hand you where the best damned horseshoe thrower in your village. You aim and let go in a perfect arc. You close your eyes and wolf-whistle, interrupting the proceedings, drawing all attention to you.  
The night lights up in a blinding flash searing through your closed eyelids and a wave of heat washes over you. Time slows around you. You open your eyes, still on your knee you pull the revolver from your boot.  
To tie someones hands renders the unable to use a spear. It is perfectly possible to use a gun however.  
You take aim at the executioner and cock the hammer.  
The world forms a tunnel between you and your target.  
You fire.  
Five bullets left.  
The executioner jerks and drops her dagger. Before the dagger even hits the ground you spin around and fires a second bullet, the barrel pressed to the kneecap of your guard. Smoke, blood and pieces of bone fly out the back of her knee, and her leg folds in an unnatural direction. Four bullets.  
The guard drops the rope around your neck and grabs at her leg as she falls to her side.  
You jump up, trot over to where the executioner who lies on the ground before Anya. You had aimed at chest level but the bullet struck high tearing out her throat. Large spurts of blood pump out of her with every heartbeat and she kicks feebly with her feet, trying to stem the flow of blood with her hands.  
The executioner is incapacitated and your hate burns white hot, you leave her to bleed out on the ground.  
The second guard has started to recover from the blinding flash and bangs from your revolver. She looks at you the dying executioner and the writhing guard opposite of her. Raising her spear she starts forward towards you. By that time you have already raised your revolver. You aim and fire. The guard jerks. You fire again and the guard falls over, dead. Two bullets left.  
Now there is only two people left standing up on the pyramid, you and the First Sister. More could be on their way through the temple so you act fast. You quickly cut your rope around your hands with the executioners dagger and train your gun at the First Sister.  
The First Sister has either been too surprised or shocked to move while you did your grim deeds or she is calm in knowing that more guards are on their way. In either case, as long as you have your gun at her, no one can touch you. You turn to the crowd far below, shocked into silence by the strange and horrifying events taking place above them.  
A part of your officers training was to train a voice that could be heard over machine gun fire and exploding grenades. From here your voice carries well.  
"I am second lieutenant Lambton of his Majesty's royal forces. I flew in on a thunderbird and I married Anya under god. Any violence upon her is violence upon me and will incur the wrath of British empire!" you bellow in your best Inphan. Not the best speech and you are bluffing wildly but it will tell anyone present that killing you or Anya will result in dire consequences and that there is nothing divine about you, that you are now a political and diplomatic problem alone.  
Below you the queen gestures and as one the royal guards turn and start sprinting up the stairs, their skull masks flickering in fire light.  
To your right the guard with only one knee draws herself standing using a spear as a crutch. You know that killing her isn't necessary but your heart feels cold as ice. Anyone who stood in your way or threatened Anya is guilty in your rage fueled mind.  
You take aim and fire, putting her down on the ground for good. One bullet left and half a dozen guards sprint up towards you. You aim your revolver at the First Sister and wondering if you should kill her or one of the guards to deter them from coming any closer.  
The blood from the dying executioner trickles around your feet into grooves and canals at the base of the altar. Above you a lightning storm erupts.  
Tendrils of lightning lash the sky, violent flashes emanates from a ball of lightning hovering just a hundred feet above your head. With a high pitched whine the ball expands and again the sky is torn asunder above you. No storm this time, it is a red evening sky in the rift, calm and almost peaceful if not for the black dots twirling and spinning through it. You know what you see above you, you have seen it before back in London.  
It's an aerial battle raging above you. Small dots chase, loop and turn, contrails leaving lines in the sky.  
One dot finds itself behind another dot and red tracers form a line connecting them. Smoke pours from the stricken dot, flames erupt and the dot grows larger rapidly.  
Mesmerized you see the dot grow and grow, heading directly for you. After a few seconds you can see the propeller not spinning, the flames licking the fuselage and the missing wing. You just stare into your homeworld. Just as the plane is about to cross worlds the rift snaps shut with a bang and you fall to your knees staring into the black night sky. Home.  
The sound of running feet on the stairs below you draws you back to reality. You slowly get to your feet and look at the royal guards. You try to raise your revolver, to fire either at the First Sister or at the running guards but suddenly you can't find the rage inside you anymore. It's like the rift and the sight of your home swallowed your rage allowing emotions and feelings to the surface again. The enormity of your actions crash into you.  
The revolver falls from limp fingers. The scene around you, the dead guards, the executioner twitching the last of her life away beside you, the blood, the smell of gunpowder, it's too much for you to handle.  
You idly watch a royal guard lift her spear, spin it around in her hand and throw it. You see a wooden pole fly towards you, end wrapped thickly in cloth forming a small ball. The impact from said cloth covered pole drives the wind and apathy from you and bruises your ribs badly.  
You fall to the ground clutching your chest and before you can make a sound the skull faced guards are upon you. You are tied up again hands and feet and hoisted over a shoulder. You see them cut loose Anya from the altar and tie her hands too, half carrying half dragging her after you as you are carried down the stairs in large strides, skipping several steps at the time. At the base of the stairs you see a wall of spears pointing towards you, Argilis in the center. Above you, large number of robed figures pour from the temple, armed with spears running down after you, Anya and the guards. Was it Argilis who sold you and Anya and now has you trapped between her spear wall and the guards above?  
The guards carrying you and Anya continue to run and the spear wall parts allowing you to pass through, closing tight behind you. If there is a battle between Argilis troops and the temple guards you don't know as you are blindfolded before the guards carry you further.  
You don't know exactly how far they carried you but they did not make any turns and you have a hunch where you're going.  
You are dumped in a hard chair, you hands pulled and tied above your head. Hands search every pocket, take your boots and feel the lining of your belt.  
Then you are left alone for what feels like an eternity.  
Suddenly your blindfold is pulled from your eyes and you see that you are seated in a large stone chair. The back of the chair is several feet high and the rope around your wrists is pulled into a slot on top of it and tied in place. The room you are seated in is large and have an impossibly high doomed roof. You suspect you are in the middle of the palace, in the audience chamber or something to that effect.  
A table is placed before you and a large blade is stuck in it. You fear you might not like what comes next. A royal guard with her skull face steps up to your side.  
"Listen man, we will ask you certain questions. We want you to answer truthfully or we will know. We will have the truth and it's you who decide how easy it will be, we will oblige any way you choose." she says and as if to make her point clear she dons thin leather gloves and cracks her fingers.  
Inpha is not a signatory of the Geneva convention so repeating your rank and ID number might not have the desired effect here. You begin to sweat.  
"Not yet, I will ask some questions first" a voice calls behind your interrogator. The interrogator steps aside.  
A figure in gilded robes and medallions, face painted white like a skull walks up before you and seats herself on the edge of the table, legs crossed. The queen.  
You quickly look aside, to look at high royalty was a capital offense in certain cultures back home and you don't want to take any chances.  
Seated on the table edge her legs are almost touching yours and you feel your body almost recoiling from her imposing presence.  
"Look at me" she orders. You carefully look at her face. Her eyes are deep red and the skull painted on her face gives her such an imposing look that you try to wriggle your way through the stone chair behind you.  
"Are you truly an officer form a foreign empire?" she asks, voice calm. You nod vigorously. She lean forwards, looks at you and nods slowly.  
"So we have an agent of a foreign empire come into our homelands and kill my people. Is that how you do diplomacy where you come from?" she asks her voice slightly amused. You shake your head.  
"Then tell me why I shouldn't have you killed on the spot. You are allowed to speak." She says, the amusement in her voice replaced with a hard edge.  
"The British empire considers it very bad sport to kill their officers or officials like the high sisters intended to do." You say, voice trembling.  
"So instead you killed our officials? Does that mean we have a war?" the queen asks, amused again.  
"Maybe the crown can send some recompense for lives lost once contact is made?" you try carefully.  
"We make contact when we want to and we choose to stay hidden over the foreseeable future." the queen says, voice hard again.  
"You killed three people while bound and secured, reports of a weapon capable of piercing any armor as far as the eye can see reached me earlier today. We do not want more of you here." the queen continues and makes a gesture. Your revolver is placed beside her by a guard.  
"Any recompense falls on you and since you are reportedly claimed by Anya of house Remisia, it falls on her alone" the queen says voice hard.  
"Not Anya. I'll do anything, say anything, just spare Anya" you beg. You managed to save Anya from the high sisters but by doing so you delivered her directly into the hands of the queen and now you are out of tricks.  
"If contact is made, I can get you steel, aluminum, copper, glass, guns, medicine, anything!" you offer desperately.  
"What we want from you is the secret of your metals. We want you to unveil the secrets of the thunderbird bones" the queen says, excitement creeping into her voice.  
"Do you even have iron ore here?" you blurt out, mind racing if it's even possible to fulfill her request.  
"Do we even have what?" the queen asks, her red eyes burning. You suddenly wonder if it was wise to let slip that you knew of iron making, that could possibly have been your only real bargain chip. Of course, the queen wants the knowledge of metal, to wrench power back from the church.  
If she gains control of the iron the church has much less influence and with your announcement she can also claim that any wreck of planes are her domain too, artifacts of this new empire.  
It was you announcing that you where an foreign officer that enabled the queen to save or arrest you as you jumped from divinity to the political plane. She already controls the men and like the high sisters she knows what is bound to happen if your world gains access to hers.  
You bite your lip and look at the floor, trying to figure out if this can be used to your advantage.  
The queen suddenly grabs your chin and forces you to look into her red eyes, her skull face just inches from yours.  
"If I have to roast you and/or Anya over slow fires to get the secret of this iron you talk of I will gladly do so. Understand? she hisses and her eyes burns brightly with excitement. You nod the best you can in her iron grip.  
"Tell me" she says, her royal demeanor hidden by her excitement. You have to stall for time, you have to get Anya safe somehow.  
"You need iron ore, but the iron inside is bound by oxygen into oxides. Using coal in a furnace you must burn it hot enough to combust the coal to carbon monoxide which in turn will absorb the oxides from the iron, leaving you with a bloom of the desired product." you say, repeating an old chemistry lesson in your head. You hope the chemical words you bring in from English will confuse her enough to not understand but still be placated by the information. The queens eyes burns with the same hunger that Anya had when she first found out that you where a man. That someone who already has everything stares at you with such desire scares you immensely. You might be able to use that to save Anya you realize.  
"If I can get a few strong Inphas under me I might be able to construct a forge for you" you say nonchalantly.  
"You are a man, you can't get anyone under you" the queen snaps.  
"I belong to Anya" you try carefully. The queen nods and taps her lips with a finger, thinking for a moment. Then she gestures to her guards.  
A guard runs up to her.  
"What do we know about house Marisia and Anya?" she asks. The guard whispers something into her ear and the queen nods again.  
"Do it" she orders and the guards start to run about.  
Soon a guard appears with a pot on a tray and two other guards leads Anya through a door.  
"Anya!" you shout, your heart bouncing when seeing her walk unharmed.  
"Lum!" she yells and darts to you so fast that the guards barely have time to react. She runs up to you, runs her fingers over your face, through your hair and around your neck.  
"Are Lum okay, did they hurt Lum?" she asks over and over until the guards run up to her and drags her away. Then she notices the queen at the table. Her jaws fall open and her eyes begin to sparkle. She is positively starstruck.  
The queen gets off the table and walks up to Anya who just stares, mouth ajar.  
"Anya?" the queen asks. Anya nods slightly, mouth still open.  
"You are no longer Anya the Hunter, you are now Anya, royal master of iron" she proclaims grandly, the queen in her back in full force.  
She gently pushes Anyas mouth shut and dips three fingers in the pot a guard carries. Gently pressing her fingers over Anyas lips she leaves three black lines across her face.  
Anya looks like she is about to faint. A guard lifts you off the chair and carries you over to Anya, your hands still bound.  
"You'd better be able to bring results" the guard hisses in your ear and dumps you into Anyas arms.  
"Take her to the guests wing until we can make sure the city is safe for her. Double the guards." the queen orders. The guards nod leads Anya who is still carrying you through a large door on the far side of the room. Following a large hallway, Anya is ushered through a large double door into a large bedroom.  
It's not Buckingham palace but it's pretty damn near close. A large poster bed is placed against the far wall, the floor is covered in rugs and rich tapestries hang over carved stone walls.  
Gilded wall Sconces light the room and small tables loaded with ripe fruits, casks of wine and copper goblets line the walls in intervals.  
Anya dumps you on the bed and for the first time since you came here you rest on something soft that isn't Anyas breasts.  
The bed below you must be stuffed with wool, horsehair or something similar as a faint smell of animals waft through the soft linens.  
Anya paces back and forth in the room, nervously chattering to herself.  
"The queen spoke to Anya, the queen TOUCHED Anya, Anya is part of the court, Anya will sleep in the palace" she goes on and on giggling and acting like a schoolgirl who has just met Clark Gable.  
"Yes you did, can you please untie me?" you ask, your ropes starting to feel uncomfortable. Anya runs up to you and bends over you, eyes wide.  
"Lum spoke to the queen? What did the queen want? What did the queen say?" Anya pours loads of questions over you excitedly.  
"And when was Lum going to tell Anya about the small hidden rifle?" she suddenly says and gives you a stern look.  
"When I saved you from the high sisters" you say, feeling that you are allowed to give some lip after saving her.  
Anya gets on the bed and lays down beside you. She draws your face close to hers and whispers in your ear.  
"Anya was so afraid when they took Lum, Anya did everything they said to save Lum" she whispers in a trembling voice.  
You feel tears well up in your eyes and you bury your face between her breasts, quietly sobbing.  
Anya gently draws you close to her and strokes your hair while you quietly sobs.  
For a long time you lay in her arms until your sobbing subsides and Anya rolls you on your back.  
"Can you untie me, these ropes are uncomfortable" you say, holding your bound hands up to Anya. Anya grabs the ropes but rather than untie you she hitches your tied hands over a carved flower petal on top of the headboard.  
"Lum has been both a good and a bad dog. Lum need a reward and training" she purrs and you you don't have to look at her to know that the wolf is back.  
Anya climbs on top of you in your half sitting position, unbuttons your jacket and pulls unclasps your belt.  
"Anya can we plea-" you say but Anya pulls the knot on her breast bindings and her boobs bounce free, silencing you. She wraps her bindings over your face, blindfolding you. The wrappings are warm and slightly moist from sweat on the inside, all the air you breathe are filtered trough them and the smell of Anya fills you with every breath you draw. You instantly go hard from her musky scent, filled with pheromones.  
Anya pulls off your pants and you feel your erection spring free. You can't see anything through your blindfold but you can feel the bed shift under Anyas weight as she crawls around and over you. You feel her long hair brush over your chest and your skin tingles in anticipation.  
You feel her hot breath over your nipple and you shudder. A sharp bite on your nipple evokes a yelp but a finger over your lips quickly silences you.  
"For hiding things from Anya" you hear a her whisper. Her breath wanders over to your other nipple and you tense up.  
Her wet tongue licks and her soft lips place a long kiss over it. You shudder and the sensation of her lips on your skin makes you moan slightly.  
"For helping Anya meet the queen" she whispers. You feel her hair brush lower and her tongue sharply prods the bruise left by the spear. You wince in pain.  
"For making Anya sick with fear by being captured by the high sisters" she purrs.  
She ever so gently kisses the bruise, licks it and kisses her way lower. The gentle touch of her lips over your bruised skin sends sparks of pleasure mixed with pain shooting through your body and you gasp.  
"For going after Anya into the temple" she whispers. Anya continues to lick, kiss and bite her way lower, whispering about your misdeeds and heroics between every touch. You tense up before every bite and Anya massages your stomach and sides with her hands to relax you every time.  
You feel her breasts slide over you as she kisses and bites lower and lower, your dick rubs up against her abs, slick with precum.  
Anya slides lower and you feel your shaft between her soft breasts, how Anya squeezes her boobs around it.  
"For saving Anya from the high sisters" she whispers and begins rocking back and forth with your dick tight between her breasts.  
Her hard sternum rubbing against the underside of your shaft, the soft give of her boobs enveloping you, her body heat and heart beat against you cannot be described by any words you know. You buck your hips and moan resulting in Anya placing more of her weights on your hips, pinning you down.  
On every downward stroke Anya places a kiss on your tip, sending peaks of pleasure through the constant clouds of enjoyment her breasts give you.  
Anyas cleavage is lubricated with your precum and her sweat, the feeling of her soft breasts sliding over and giving way for your erection, the lips waiting for your dick at the end makes your head spin, your world only exists between the the moment her lips part from your tip until they kiss it again whereupon the world explodes in your head and starts anew.  
You strain and  
Every movement and heartbeat in Anya feels like a ripple through her soft breasts, like she's focusing all her being into you through her boobs.  
Your chest heave so hard your bruised ribs hurt and you moan every time Anyas lips touches your dick.  
Anya speeds up and rubs her breasts back and forth, the new sensation overpowers all your resistance. A powerful climax builds within you. Anya must not have noticed and continues her teasing until you explode between her breasts. Anya gives a little surprised shout as the first pulse of cum shoots out. Anya lies still, occasionally squeezing her boobs together to knead the last of your cum from you. After the last spurt has left you Anya crawls up and you feel a warm sticky vulva press down on your abdomen. Her weight on top of you is heavy but not unbearably so. Your blindfold is removed and you see Anya on top of you, naked.  
"Anya could not feel Lum approach his limit with her breasts. Anya must practice more later" she giggles.  
Your creamy white cum forms a white string from her cheek where the first spurt hit her, down between her breasts, both of which are stained in white strings and droplets, a trickle running towards her abs.  
Your white cum on her dark bronze breasts is possibly the most erotic thing you have ever seen and you know that your your bruised body will soon be ready for another round.  
Anya scoops up a drop of cum from her breast with her finger and slowly licks it. She then lifts her breast to her mouth and licks herself clean as far as she can reach. Your dick instantly springs to life and prods Anya between her large butt cheeks.  
Anya abandons her licking, places her hands on your shoulders and begins sliding herself down, leaving a trail of pussy juice down your lower body. Your dick nestles itself between her soft butt and slides in between her sticky pussy lips, sparks of pleasure shooting back and forth through you.  
"Anya needs her daily dose of Lums seed" Anya purrs and licks some remnants of cum from her lips. She guides you into her and slowly impales herself on you. Anya groans quietly and bites her lower lip as she slides down your shaft, her slick insides squeezing you all the way down to your base.  
One she has swallowed your shaft whole she relaxes and you remain still for a moment, enjoying the feeling of being connected again. The silver tuft between her dark legs ever so alluring, you strain against your bonds to get free, to touch and run your fingers through it. Having you safely under her with no means of escape Anya reaches up and with bulging muscles tears your bonds apart.  
All her muscles tense as she rips you free, her insides squeeze you almost painfully hard and you gasp. Anya giggles at your reaction.  
You reach up with one hand and massages Anyas breast, rubbing her nipple with your thumb while your other hand combs trough her sticky pubes, massaging and caressing the soft mound underneath.  
Anya tenses up her abdominal muscles squeezing you impossibly tight and relaxes again and again. You both see and feel her abs shift as she tenses and you close your eyes and focus on the feeling of Anya, her heavy body on top of yours, her soft breast with a stiff nipple, her coarse tuft sticky with nectar and her hot insides, squeezing you hard.  
For a long moment you both just lay there, Anya squeezing you, you massaging Anyas most sensitive areas gently with your fingers.  
"Lum, my insides screams for seed" Anya whispers with a quivering voice.  
She adjusts her hips on top of you slightly, grabs your hands and places them under her breasts to support and massage them and raises her hips.  
She slams down hard but with the soft bed under you there is no pain, only pleasure as Anya rams you into her. You both moan in unison.  
Again she raises her hips and slams down with a wet slapping noise. Despite that the bed is built in solid wood, made to Inphan standard, it creaks worryingly. Anya pumps her hips hard on you, not holding back when noticing that the soft mattress takes the brunt of her weight.  
Her large boobs jump and jiggle in your hands and Anya takes your hands in hers and together you massage her breasts.  
Anyas insides squuezes you tight, her warm juices runs down your shaft and over your balls, leaving stains on the linen.  
You groan in overpowering pleasure every time Anya impales herself on you, her warm sticky insides quivering and squeezing around you on every thrust.  
Anyag gasps and shudders, her breathing becomes labored and drool run down the corner of her mouth.  
You feel another climax building and Anya approaching her limit as well speeds up. Her pussy squeezes and milks you, a tight ring of her muscles squeezing your base hard when she lifts her hips and deeper inside her the muscles tense up in anticipation of your tip as she plunges down.  
You shudder and twitch and Anya increases her pace even further.  
Without warning your mind goes blank and you erupt deep inside Anya, shooting a second load into her in several spurts. The feeling of being cummed inside pushes Anya over her edge and she clamps her thighs shut around your sides. She pulls your face into her breasts and a long groan erupts deep from her lungs, her warm spurt washing over your abdomen.  
You almost choke between her breasts before she collapses on top of you and your flaccid dick slides out of her.  
Her laying on top of you, you feel a warm sticky mix of her love juice and your cum pour down her pussy onto your groin.  
For a few minutes you lay under her listening to her deep breath before she raises herself sitting on top of you.  
"Anya needs a second dose, my body aches for it" Anya says, breathing still heavy. She begins to grind her soaking crotch against yours, your love juices mixing. You place one hand on her hip while you reach between her legs and massages her clit with your thumb, your fingers massaging her silvery mound again.  
"The doctor will provide" you say smiling.  
You lay in Anyas arms later that night the both of you covered in sweat and love juice. Your body hurts and your balls throb. Anya snores happily under you, her arms hugging you tight.  
Thinking over the day you realize you are not out of the fire yet, not by a long shot. You only bought Anya and you some time but you have a feeling things will turn out all right.  
Now however you lay in your lover arms, your loins aches from heavy lovemaking and Anyas heat warms you in the cool night. You feel that you can afford to enjoy the moment some more.  
You rest your face between Anyas sweaty breasts and promptly fall asleep.  
You can face tomorrows challenges tomorrow.

END CH.4


End file.
